Wolves In Trees
by The Other Laughing Wolf
Summary: To maintain an alliance, three females are sent away from Wolf Lake.  Betrayed, each vows to escape and seize control of her own destiny.  However, they begin to realize that change may not be such a bad thing.  Minor and original characters.
1. Author's Note & Prologue

**WOLVES IN TREES**

Author's Note

**Disclaimer 1: Wolf Lake is the property of various entities, none of whom are me. I am very poor; suing me would be akin to flogging a dead horse, squeezing blood from a stone, and generally be a waste of everyone's time. This solely is intended as a writing exercise.**

**Disclaimer 2:** If you didn't notice from the front page, this rated 'M' for 'Mature.' Please take this literally, and don't bother reading if you are offended by descriptions of violence, "intimate activity" between consenting adults (or at least "three months away from being legally considered adults and well within the Age of Consent laws of Washington State"), and lots and lots of blue language. Maybe you think I'm silly for harping on this, but I really don't want anyone yelling at me when they were forewarned. Repeatedly.

**Disclaimer 3: **Not everything the characters say and do reflect my personal opinions. They start out as my creations, but then take on a life of their own. Please take this into account while you're reading.

**Personal** **Request: **I am a perfectionist. That means I would really like it if readers let me know what they think needs work. I enjoy the "I love it!" reviews, but I value the "Chapter Such-And-Such is kind of weak. I don't think the characters would do that, based on how you've set them up" reviews even more. While I'm not writing to satisfy the masses, I would like it for people to be able to read my stories and actually understand what's going on, any "messages" I want to impart, or just be able to lose themselves in them for an afternoon.

In other words, though I take my writing seriously, I'm not so fragile that someone ripping apart the delivery will crush my will to live. Please, RIP AWAY.

Negative reviews without any constructive criticism and/or flames will only be taken seriously if they are written using correct grammar, punctuation and spelling. The occasional typo or misplaced possessive apostrophe is permissible.

No, I'm not kidding.

Yes, I am that big of a snob.

* * *

Prologue

Vivian Cates stared at the three people standing before her. The young female scuffed the toe of her sneaker on the expensive rug. Her parents stood behind her, grim-faced. This should have gone to Willard—the female's parents had, in fact, demanded to see him. However, her husband was off conducting Pack business, and the Beta was out of town at a brewery conference. In their current absence, Vivian was the next best thing.

"So, what is this about?" she asked calmly. The young female smelled of hurt and indignation, which suggested to Vivian that whatever happened, it, once again, wasn't nearly as bad as her parents assumed. The female might be a bit wild, but she had a good head on her shoulders. A better one, actually, than most of her friends.

"Tell Mrs. Cates what you did," her father snarled.

"It was just for fun," she mumbled resentfully.

"She wrote a book," her mother spat.

"About . . . ?" Vivian encouraged.

"About werewolves," the female said, finally lifting her head and staring Vivian in the eye. "It was just for fun. I didn't plan on showing it to anybody, but last spring, I was failing English, so my teacher said he'd pass me if I did some extra credit. Anything I wanted, just so long as it was good. Well, I didn't think it would hurt, so I changed a bunch of things about the werewolves—made them more like how humans think of us, and I handed it in, and he passed me."

"This is about a school project?" Vivian asked, allowing her temper to color her words.

"It turns out her teacher liked it so much he showed it to a writer friend of his," the female's father declared. "And this friend liked it so much, he showed it to his agent."

"Who told her that he could get it published," her mother added. Vivian's eyes widened slightly, betraying her alarm at that declaration. So, this wasn't just routine nastiness; it was a legitimate threat to the Pack's security.

"I didn't know my teacher was going to do that," the female protested. "It's not my fault. And the agent only said that because paranormal fiction is really popular right now. No one would pay attention to another book. And, I did change the werewolves around a lot. There's nothing in it about Wolf Lake, our traditions, or _anything._"

"Except for the part about us changing into wolves, though," Vivian observed dryly. The female's cheeks pinked, and her scent took on a hint of embarrassment.

"Well, yeah, except for that."

Vivian took a deep breath and sat up straighter in her chair.

"So, let me see if I have this straight—you, for your own amusement, wrote a story about werewolves. Through a turn of events entirely uninfluenced by you, it is now being offered for publication. Your parents think this is a disaster and want you to be punished. But you think you've taken enough precautions to be able to get away with it, am I right?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, before anything can be decided, the Alpha is going to have to read the story. Did you bring a copy of it with you?" The female's father handed over a thick manila folder. Vivian took it and laid it on the end table next to her. "I will discuss this with the Alpha tonight, and he will inform you of his decision in due time."

The parents thanked her and dragged their daughter off. Vivian shook her head. Poor thing; always getting punished for the tiniest little infraction, when the real cause of her parents' displeasure had been dead for who knew how long. No wonder she rebelled against them as often as she did.

Sighing again, Vivian picked up the folder and removed the manuscript. _Still, in this case, they may have point,_ she reflected ruefully. Well, the least she could do for the female was read the story and see if it was inaccurate enough that she could somehow lessen her husband's wrath.

* * *

Willard Cates, Alpha of the Wolf Lake Pack, walked into his home with a sigh of relief. The latest catastrophe had been averted, and he could finally relax. Well, he hoped, anyway. Running a Pack wasn't like running a business; you couldn't leave it at the office at the end of the day. Still, with a little luck, he could have a nice, quiet evening at home with his family.

He hung up his coat, and was surprised to hear his wife's laughter coming from the living room. Poking his head in the door, he saw her lounging on the couch, her suit jacket carelessly tossed across its back and her shoes kicked off on the floor. Grinning widely, she flipped a page of the document she was reading and cackled.

"What's so funny?" Willard asked. He loved his wife, but even he'd be the first to admit that Vivian was more than a bit stuffy about her image. It was unique to find her so . . . rumpled. She looked up, her eyes shining with merriment.

"This is a story about werewolves that one of the younger Pack members wrote," she explained. "Her parents were concerned that it might put us all in danger if it gets published. They were looking for you, but ran into me first. Considering who this particular female is, I thought it would be prudent to read the thing to see just how bad the damage might be."

Willard cocked an eyebrow. The female's parents were right to bring this to him; a story about werewolves, no matter how fictitious, might hit too close to home.

"I see," he said calmly. "But, you're laughing over it, which makes me assume it's pretty bad, so the likelihood of it being published would probably be slim."

"Actually, it's very good," she replied. "I'm laughing because it's a comedy. And, a publisher is already interested in it. I haven't finished reading, but so far, I don't think it's all that dangerous."

"Really?" Willard said, his eyebrow climbing higher. "Well, let me see it, then."

"When I'm finished," Vivian said. "I want to find out what happens."

* * *

Vivian came down to breakfast to find her husband chuckling as he poured over the female's manuscript with his coffee. She had finished it yesterday, and handed it off to Willard, who spent most of the night reading it.

"Like it?" she asked blandly as she pulled the day's newspaper from under his elbow.

"It's very clever," he declared. "I think you're right. If someone actually wants to publish this, I don't think it would hurt."

* * *

A year later, Wolf Lake's bookstore got its first shipment in. The books were prominently arranged in the window with little sign that proudly declared:

"Wolves in Trees, by local author Brianna Young."


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

"I don't understand how you can read that," Brianna observed. Her best friend stared at her over the top of her book.

"Jealous?" Presley asked. "It's been made into a movie. _All_ of Stephanie Meyer's books have been made into movies."

"It's garbage," Brianna replied. "If you want to read good paranormal fiction, read Patricia Briggs, or Ilona Andrews, or—"

"You?" Presley interrupted.

"You've already read me. I'm just trying to point out some other authors who deserve the money a heck of a lot more than that freak."

Presley rolled her eyes, grinning. She'd already privately concluded that Brianna was right; Patricia Briggs and Ilona Andrews—and Brianna Young, for that matter—were better writers than Stephanie Meyer. However, the Twilight Series was fun, and it was even more fun to wave it in her friend's face and watch her eyes pop out of her skull with righteous indignation.

"Stephanie Meyer is not a freak. In fact, I think she's a genius," Presley goaded.

"Her vampires _sparkle, _Presley. What kind of vampire sparkles? Lestat didn't sparkle. Stephan and Damon Salvatore don't sparkle. _Dracula _didn't sparkle."

"Eric Northman sparkles," their waitress interjected as she slid their food onto the table. Presley glared at her for daring to participate in their conversation, but looked to Brianna for comment once the waitress's back was turned.

"Okay, so Eric Northman _may _sparkle, but only metaphorically," she conceded. "And only because he's played by Alexander Skarsgård."

They paused for a moment, then sighed in unison.

"Ah, Alex," Presley moaned dramatically. "Totally wasted on humanity."

"So far as anyone knows," Brianna giggled. "They have werewolves in Sweden."

"Please. If Alexander Skarsgård were a werewolf, there's no way his Pack would have let him move to LA, let alone date Kate Bosworth."

"True. But, back to the topic at hand, aside from Eric Northman _metaphorically _sparkling, no vampire in the entire history of vampire stories ever sparkled," Brianna stated, slapping the table for emphasis.

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Randy as he and Lucas Cates slid into the booth.

"How much Stephanie Meyer sucks," Brianna explained.

"Looks like we interrupted some serious girl talk," Luke observed. "Maybe we should get out while we can."

Randy ignored him. Ever since the fiasco with Sarah Hollander, he'd had to work his ass off to repair his reputation with the females of the Pack, and now that Brianna was finally noticing him, he wasn't going to waste time playing games, no matter how harmless they might be.

"Aren't the vampires in those books vegetarians?" he asked. "What kind of predator is a vegetarian?" He snitched a sprout of broccoli off Brianna's plate and popped it into his mouth.

"Please tell me you meant that to be funny," Luke said.

"What?" garbled Randy, his mouth full. Presley and Brianna giggled.

"They're not real vegetarians," Presley explained. "They just call themselves that because they don't drink human blood."

"Yeah, they drink bunnies instead," Brianna retorted, "which, as everyone at this table knows, are made out of tasty, tasty meat. No veggies involved. Ergo, it is impossible for them to be real vegetarians. The fact that Stephanie Meyer doesn't seem to realize that is yet another sign of a deranged mind."

"Oh, you just don't like love stories," Presley said. "You think they're trite."

"That is not true. In fact, there's a love story in my next book. I just don't think an entire plot should revolve around love. Especially Stephanie Meyer's idea of love. I mean, come on! If a guy ripped the engine out of my car for any reason, no matter how justifiable, I'd beat the crap out him. And that's _after_ I broke up with him for trying to tell me what to do."

"Enough of the book club," Luke stated as he tried to catch their waitress's eye. "Are you guys coming up to the lake tonight?"

"Probably not," said Brianna. "I've got to edit my latest manuscript, and I still have chores and homework to do."

"Since when do you care about chores and homework?" Presley scoffed. "And you can write anytime you want."

"It's not that easy," Brianna countered, "and I signed a contract for six more books, which means I can't waste time. And, my parents said that if I behaved myself and kept my grades up, they would consider letting me do some book signings this summer. _Real _ones, in places like Portland and Denver, instead of rinky-dink three-shelf bookstores in our neighboring counties. I need those book signings; they make my publisher money, which makes me money."

"They'll never let you do it," Presley opined, shaking her head. "You know how your parents are. You'll bust your ass trying to be Little Miss Perfect, and they'll change their minds at the last minute."

"At least I'll be able to say that I held up my end."

"Well, do you think you can free up some time for your friends this weekend?" asked Randy. Brianna smiled at him.

"Absolutely," she promised, then added grandly, "I have penciled you all into my appointment book."

The four of them laughed, but then both Luke and Presley's faces stilled. Luke's expression was one of guarded longing; Presley's barely concealed hatred. Brianna twisted around to see Sophia Donner walk into the diner and slip behind the counter. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see both Luke and Presley track the female's path like predators on the hunt.

_And that would be my cue to leave, _Brianna thought, signaling for their waitress to come over with her check.

"You're not leaving, are you? We just got here," Randy said. *Please don't leave me alone in the middle of this,*he added on a private mental thread. Brianna smiled at him regretfully.

"Sorry, but like I said, I have lot to do," she apologized and gathered up her things.

"But you barely ate anything," he pointed out.

"You take it."

She climbed over him and walked toward the door. She pulled a twenty out of her wallet and, finally catching the waitress's eye, left it on the edge of the counter next to the register. If things went the same way as they had been going these last few months, she doubted the tab would get paid, which meant it would be taken out of the waitress's paycheck. Presley never thought about things like that when she got riled up.

Actually, neither had she, if Brianna wanted to be truthful, and if anyone had pointed it out to her, she would have blown them off. After all, who cared? She was a Hill Kid, and the waitress, in spite of also being Pack, was not. But, getting her book published had opened a lot of new doors for Brianna, forcing her to grow up in ways that she'd never considered. And then, after everything that had happened to the town in the past year—and was continuing to happen—she'd started seeing with her new eyes that life was changing for them all. So, a prudent young female such as herself, with intentions to actually have a future, needed to change right along with them.

Outside the diner, the air had a nip to it that forced her to pause and put on her jacket. She might have super powers compared to humans, but without her pelt, she got just as cold. Brianna pulled the strap of her messenger bag over her head, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and started walking home. Unlike the other Hill Kids, she didn't have a car. Her parents didn't see the need to lavish that kind of extravagance on her, not when she had so many friends with cars. Her parents didn't see the need to lavish a lot of things on her; it was a miracle she had decent clothes at all. Then again, it wouldn't be done for the rest of the Pack to see a Young not looking their best, she thought bitterly. It would let the whole family down, and Brianna had done enough of that ever since she hit puberty.

But enough moping, she told herself and straightened her spine. She'd never get to have everything that all the other kids did, but she definitely had a better future now than she did before.

Funny how she'd never really thought about it until a year ago. But, given everything that went with getting a book published, you ended up having to. Brianna thought her agent was amazing. He'd realized right away that, in spite of being able to stick it out and write an entire novel, she'd never really thought any farther than what party she was going to go to that weekend. He'd quickly explained that the contract the publisher wanted to sign with her was serious business; she'd be given payment advances, which meant if she didn't finish books, she'd have to give the money back or be sued. He also pointed out that, no matter how good she was, it was unlikely she'd make enough off her writing to support herself, so she needed to give serious thought to what kind of job she'd want after graduating high school.

Lastly, he'd quietly pulled her aside and advised her to save all the money she made for as long as she was living at home. It was obvious that, after meeting her parents and seeing how reluctant they were to agree to anything that might help Brianna, that might not be for all that much longer. He also, less discretely, gave her parents a copy of both Washington State's and the Federal laws on the rights of minors regarding their own income. That had really gotten them steamed.

Still, it was nice to know someone was looking out for her, even if there wasn't anything they could do to really help. And, honestly, as awful as her parents were, Brianna was well aware that things could be a lot worse. She consoled herself with the fact that in less than a year, she'd be old enough to move into her own place and wouldn't have to worry about how much of an embarrassment she was to them anymore. Something she'd never even contemplated as possible before her book was published.

Yep, things definitely had changed for the better. So far. Now, if only she could keep out of the mess that had sprung up in the past few months . . .

Or should she say the storm looming on the Pack's horizon? _Hurricane Sophia, _Brianna thought, laughing to herself. For most of her life, Sophia's biggest claim to fame was being the daughter of the Pack's most notorious member, Matt Donner, who dared to spurn Vivian Cates for love of a human. No one was entirely sure how Sophia would turn out when she grew up, but in early autumn of last year, Sophia started the Change. Bets were laid as to whether or not a half-breed would be strong enough to survive the ordeal, and when it would happen.

Sophia did survive her flip, though no one knew about it for months afterwards. Matt Donner was obsessed with his daughter having as normal—which to him meant "human"—a life as possible, so helped her hide herself from the rest of the Pack long enough for her to attend an astronomy program in Florence for the summer. When she returned in August, they officially announced Sophia's new status, and that, combined with the huge well of power she could call on, sent the Pack reeling.

Sophia should have taken her rightful place as one of the strongest females in the Pack at the same time. However, she preferred to continue her former existence as a social outcast, spending all her time with her old human friends and the few werewolves—outcasts themselves—who hadn't snubbed her when they underwent their own Changes.

Nevertheless, that wouldn't be true forever, even if Sophia didn't want to acknowledge it. Brianna wasn't the only one growing up; they all were, and eventually, that would mean facing the fact that once they left high school, they would be taking more active roles in the Pack itself. And _that _meant a lot of them would find themselves shoved out of the way to make room for someone they thought should have been drowned at birth. And if they couldn't accept it, well, there'd be a lot fewer of them in the end. Luke Cates would see to that, even if Sophia didn't want him to.

Of all the Hill Kids who survived the Change, Luke had been the only one to continue to be nice to Sophia, something that Brianna was a little ashamed about now. She and Sophia had never been bosom buddies, but they had been friendly. Since her own Change, Brianna had become one of Sophia's worst tormenters, mostly because Sophia was Presley's favorite target, and Brianna _was _bosom buddies with Presley.

But, what with Sophia Changing, and Luke Cates shifting his interest to her from Presley, _and _the fact that Matt Donner was now the unofficial Beta of the Pack, Brianna couldn't afford to keep alienating her. Not when her own standing was so rocky.

* * *

Sarah Hollander pulled into a parking space in front of the pharmacist's and turned off the engine. Smiling happily, she ran her hands over the smooth leather of the steering wheel of her new Mini Cooper. It had been a birthday present from her parents. It wasn't the sports make—her parents didn't think she was a good enough driver to handle that much engine, even with her werewolf reflexes—but it was still so cute! A bright, cheerful red, and it was a convertible. It was perfect for driving around with her friends.

Her smile faded a little bit at that. She didn't have many friends these days. Completing the Change meant she had to give up all her human friends and hang out exclusively with other Pack members. Most of her friends had been human; she'd gotten along with them better.

Unfortunately, as she'd quickly found out, flipping didn't automatically mean you kept your friends on the Hill, either. Officially becoming a member of the Pack meant you had to jockey for position. Being friends with the wrong people could mean disaster for your standing. Sarah had known that even before undergoing the Change, but it wasn't until after that she truly appreciated what it meant.

Suddenly, most of the Hill friends she had weren't good enough for her. They were too weak, making them too low in the Pack hierarchy, for them to be useful connections. Her parents strongly suggested that she stop spending so much time with them. Oh, she had to still be nice; it wasn't polite to snub them completely, and would look bad to those at the top if she did.

The scant handful of more dominant werewolves that Sarah had also called her friends now were avoiding her because _she _was too submissive. It had been okay to be friends before the Change, but after, when her true strength became apparent, they were now too good for her.

The Hollanders were middle-rankers, and Sarah was the first of their children to survive flipping. Her older sister and two older brothers, twins, hadn't survived. Her little brother was asthmatic and prone to developing nasty colds in the winter, leading to a weakened constitution that made it unlikely he would survive, either. That left Sarah to maintain, and advance, her family's standing.

So far, it wasn't going very well.

There had been that whole disaster with Randy, but Sarah didn't think that should count against her. Yes, she'd technically rejected him, but as she tried to explain, it wasn't because he'd done anything wrong. She just freaked out at the last minute, unable to give up her virginity solely for the purpose of flipping. Werewolves might do it at the drop of a hat, but everyone else in the world thought it was special. Sarah had thought it was special, and while she didn't think it necessary to hold off until marriage, she at least wanted it to be with someone she cared about.

At the time, she hadn't cared all that much for Randy. It hadn't mattered to her that he was close friends with Luke Cates, whom everyone said was going to be the next Alpha, or that Randy's own strength was enough for him to be a force to be reckoned with all on his own. What mattered to her was that he was an obnoxious jerk with horrible acne. Unfortunately, he was the only one willing to see her through the flip; all her single male friends had been too reluctant, claiming that they just weren't interested in her that way. Randy hadn't cared; all Randy wanted to do was get off.

Her mother advised her to just grit her teeth and get on with it. It wasn't as if it meant anything, anyway. And Sarah had tried. Really tried. But, as soon as she felt him between her legs, felt that _part_ of him touching her, starting to push into her . . .

Sarah shuddered at the memory.

Still, it hadn't been Randy's fault, and it certainly wasn't fair that he lost status over the whole debacle afterwards. The males joked about him about not being able to close the deal with her. The females cattily said that if he wasn't good enough for the likes of Sarah Hollander, then he certainly wasn't good enough for them.

Sarah tried to make it up to him and show everyone that her rejection hadn't been personal, but he wanted nothing to do with her. It might have worked if Sarah had been stronger; accepting her attentions _after _she'd rejected him, when everyone knew how weak she was, would damage him even more.

Then, for some inexplicable reason, everyone started rejecting her for rejecting Randy! Even though they were making his life hell for being a loser, they still thought he was better than her. And _that _meant that whenever the two of them were in the same room, they wouldn't pick on him, as if they were saying no matter how low he'd fallen in their estimation, he was still one of them, and she, who was not, didn't deserve the privilege of witnessing him being put in his place.

Luckily, no one had gone out of their way to actually do anything physical to her. There was no way she could have beaten anyone in a fight. Randy, on the other hand, while definitely getting the worst of it at the beginning, was bouncing back better than before, and all because of just one friend.

Sarah perked up as that particular friend strolled right past the nose of her new Mini, pausing just long enough to cast an envious glance at its shiny red hood. Pretty, talented Brianna Young, who, as the best friend of Presley, had her pick of any male she wanted, and yet inexplicably chose Randy. The second everyone saw her smile at him in genuine warmth, his status went through the roof.

Maybe it really was that simple, Sarah thought, and rolled down her window.

"Hey, Brianna!" she called out cheerfully. "Where are you off to? Want a ride?"

Brianna stopped and faced her, smiling tightly.

"No thanks," she replied.

"Really, it's not a problem," Sarah persisted. If she could get Brianna on her side, then Randy would forgive her, and then Presley would be her friend, and then,_ finally, _everything would be perfect.

"Thank you for the offer, but it's a nice day, and I like to walk," Brianna stated and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Sarah begged, hurriedly getting out of the car. Brianna made an exasperated noise and turned around again. "You and Randy are friends, right? Or, something?"

"Or something."

"I was wondering . . ."

"Yeah?"

Sarah chewed on her bottom lip. She really hadn't had a plan, and Brianna was starting to look really testy.

"Well, it's just . . . how do I make it up to him?" she blurted out. "I'm really sorry, and everyone's still mad at me, and I just . . . I want . . . why can't we just be friends again?"

"Sarah, we were never friends to begin with, and there's no Law that says we have to be now, just because we can all flip," Brianna said. "Other than what we are, we have nothing common. Find somebody with the same hobby as you and be friends with them."

"But none of them want to be my friend either," Sarah admitted, frustrated. " I just want to fit in. What am I doing wrong?"

"Did you ever think that maybe you're aiming too high?" Brianna suggested.

"And just what do you mean by that?" she demanded. Brianna stared at her blankly for a few moments, then shook her head.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you," she muttered. In a clearer tone, she explained: "we all have a limited amount of time and attention to spend on each other. There's just no room for you. If you want to move up, well, you're not strong enough to pull somebody down, so you're just going to have to wait until they fall down all by themselves. Until that happens, if you want friends, find them beneath you."

"Beneath me? Are you kidding? That's a total waste of my time," Sarah snorted.

"Just because they're at the bottom doesn't mean they're not worth knowing," Brianna said primly.

"If that's true, then why aren't you friends with me?" she retorted, hands on her hips. Sarah knew she needed to back down, but an entire year's worth of anxiety and frustration were pouring out of her and she just couldn't stop. Brianna's eyes narrowed, and Sarah smelled anger—no, something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on—emanate from her.

"Do you really want to know why we aren't friends with you?" she said. "It's because you're pathetic. Your so-called apology to Randy probably was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. He's stronger than you; you should have come crawling to him. But instead, you acted like you were doing him a favor. We all could have forgiven you for it, though, because you were new and still figuring things out, but afterwards, you turned into this . . . this _toad. _Sarah, that's not how you get ahead! Try standing on your own two feet for once, instead of getting everyone else to hold you up."

"But . . . I'm not like you," Sarah explained lamely. "I don't have that spark that makes people sit up and notice me."

"The old Sarah did," Brianna said softly. "And the Change didn't kill that. You did, all by yourself."

* * *

He observed the female spin on her heel and march away, leaving the other to watch her go with sadness in her eyes. Perhaps he would feel differently in forty years, when time had dulled the harsh edges of his memory, but for the moment, he was glad he was no longer so young and naïve. He was convinced adolescence was wretched for any species, but that of werewolves had to be the worst.

He shook his head ruefully. These two females really weren't adolescents anymore, no matter what human law stated. Pursing his lips, he evaluated them . . . neither appealed to him personally, but he thought the one might be whom he was sent here for. Not the other one, though. At least, he hoped not. Her attitude would cause too many problems.

* * *

Kit quickly pocketed the twenty Brianna Young had left for her and hustled over to table four. After Presley's nastiness earlier, she'd prefer to leave it to someone else. Unfortunately, the only other waitress on duty was Sophia Donner, and Rusty, their boss, would be pissed if a fight broke out between her and Presley within the diner.

Kit steeled herself as she neared the table, and consoled herself with the fact that, no matter what else happened, the twenty was hers. If Bratty Brianna kept up with all this kindness and sensitivity, she'd need a new nickname. Who knew fame and fortune could actually make someone a better person? Then again, it could be she just knew which way the wind was blowing. People said a lot of negative things about her, but no one ever claimed she was stupid.

"Can I take your order?" she asked Luke Cates as she pulled out her pad and pen.

"Isn't this Sophia's section?" he wondered.

"Yeah, but she's not clocked in yet," Kit replied. "Something to drink to start you off?"

"Um, yeah. I'll have a coke," he said. Kit scribbled it down, as well as Randy's order, then turned her attention to Presley.

"Are you doing alright here?" she asked perfunctorily, not really caring what the answer was. She needed to get to Sophia as quickly as possible and let her know their favorite curly-haired cow was on the warpath.

Presley shook her head, so Kit nodded and rushed off to place the orders and track down her co-waitress. Granted, it was unlikely that Presley would try anything with Luke around, but there was no knowing what she thought she would be able to get away with. Not to mention if Luke and Sophia got into another one of their arguments, Luke might storm out, leaving Presley free to do whatever she wanted.

Kit didn't understand why Sophia still was being so antagonistic toward Luke; since she'd survived the Change and both Vivian Cates and Matt Donner—quite a surprise there, since everyone knew he wasn't Luke's biggest fan—had given the okay, it should have been smooth sailing for the two of them. It was obvious Luke adored Sophia to pieces, and just as obvious that Sophia desperately wanted him. Nevertheless, whenever he got too close to her for too long, Sophia would do or say something to push him away, or just piss him off. It was almost as if she were trying to get him to do something specific, though what it was, for the life of her Kit couldn't figure out, and she was starting to feel like she should intervene on both their behalves.

_Maybe I should just give her a ding upside the head and tell her to knock it off, _she thought with a trace of amusement, knowing she'd never do such a thing. It might have worked with the old human Sophia, but new werewolf Sophia, no matter that she didn't care what Kit's status in the Pack hierarchy was, wouldn't be able to endure that kind of behavior from someone so far beneath her.

She pushed her thoughts aside when she found Sophia tying her apron on and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Just thought I'd warn you about who's sitting in your section," she said.

"I saw when I came in," Sophia replied, smiling appreciatively.

"I'll keep the table if you want to avoid Presley," Kit offered. "She's been in a real bitchy mood all afternoon. Even Bratty Brianna scooted as soon as she could."

"No, it's alright. We have to get used to being around each other now," Sophia said briskly as they made their way back to the front. They passed through the kitchen, nodding to Rusty as he worked the grill.

"Well, if you want to torture yourself, be my guest," Kit stated as she filled up two glasses of coke and handed them off. "These are for Randy and Luke." Sophia visibly braced herself and made her way over to the table.

It was a slow day for the diner. Aside from table four, there were a few Hill Kids playing pool, and the one male sitting at the counter. Kit tried to hide her curiosity, but it certainly wasn't the easiest thing she'd ever had to do. They didn't get many strange werewolves in Wolf Lake, as the territory was closed. Oh, well. He didn't seem to be causing any trouble, and for all Kit knew, he'd received permission to pass through.

A loud bang had Kit's head whipping toward table four. Presley crawled over the back of her seat into the booth behind her, her face a picture of rage. Randy dragged Sophia into his lap, and Luke jumped up and stood in front of them.

"I said enough!" he shouted at Presley and grabbed her arms as she lunged at Sophia. "You were totally out of line and you know it." He dragged the petite female toward the door and shoved her through it. He followed her, and, from what Kit could see through the window, started verbally ripping her a new one. Presley's face crumpled, and after a few more minutes, she fled in tears.

Kit shook her head. It was a shame that she was born with such a sympathetic soul, because Presley didn't deserve anyone feeling sorry for her. Still, Kit couldn't help herself. The female must be as slow as molasses to think she still had a chance with Luke now that Sophia was available.

Sophia, meanwhile, wriggled her way free of Randy, protesting that she could fight her own battles.

"We all know that," he replied, grinning, "but if that pretty face of yours got even one tiny little scratch, your dad'll come down on us all like a ton of bricks. Not to mention it would send Luke home to cry into his pillow because he couldn't stop you getting hurt." This last bit he added in a louder voice, knowing Luke was walking back in and would overhear him.

"Well, I don't know if I'd cry," Luke said, "but I'd certainly be mad at myself." He reached up to stroke her cheek, but Sophia twisted at the last minute and hurried into the back. Luke sighed sadly and sat back down.

_So, I guess it's locking them in the storage closet together until they work it all out, then. _That, Kit could get away with, and probably be applauded for it. Sophia and Luke's discord was causing ripples of unhappiness throughout the Pack, and no one seemed to know what to do about it.

"What was all that about?" asked the strange werewolf in a drawl. Kit groaned mentally—she had a thing for rugged, hyper-masculine types, and the Texas accent was the cherry on top of an already delectable sundae.

"Just the normal crap you get when the hierarchy's being reshuffled," she said dismissively, purposely keeping her tone light. "Can I—"

Looking him in the eyes was a mistake. They were a rich, vibrant blue, and seemed to bore deep inside of her, wrap around her abdomen, and gave one hell of a tug. Kit swallowed hard and straightened her spine, ignoring the heat setting her cheeks on fire.

"Can I get you something?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"I've got everything I need for the moment," he replied with a pleased smile, and his eyes sharpened with intensity.

"Well, you let me know if you change your mind," she said, doing her best to sound nonchalant, and headed toward the pool tables.

"Oh, I'll do that," he promised. A hint of arousal emanated from him and wrapped itself around her. _Oh, Hell,_ she thought, and increased her pace. The very last thing she needed was to call attention to herself by inciting gossip about a one-night stand with a mysterious stranger.

* * *

He watched the female make the rounds and smiled to himself. Up until an hour ago, when he stopped in the diner for a bite to eat, he was convinced this entire trip had been a waste of time. Why was she taking crap from striplings without even half her power? There had to be a story behind it; the trick was finding it out without tipping anyone off. Regardless of whatever it might be, though, he _definitely _wanted that female considered.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Vivian Cates sorted through paperwork, looking for the contract she was supposed to sign. Upon her election as Alpha of the Wolf Lake Pack, she also became Chairman of the Board for the brewery that supported the town. Given the rough nature of werewolves, she'd assumed being Alpha would take up most of her time; as it turned out, it was the brewery.

Locating the contract, she skimmed it for any last-minute changes, then initialed and signed where her assistant had stuck little red indicator flags. With a sigh of relief, she dropped it in her out box and lounged back in her chair. For once, she'd finished the business of the day on time. She didn't remember her husband Willard spending so much time on work. Of course, he had been raised to the position; he didn't need to figure things out as he went along. Vivian, on the other hand, had been raised to be an Alpha's partner—supportive, strong, the perfect hostess, and, above all, decorative. Not to say she didn't have a brain in her head; if anything, she was much more intelligent than her late husband had been. Still, she was using mental muscles she'd let go years before; it was just going to take time to get them toned up again.

But she could leave that for tomorrow. Tonight, she'd indulge herself. Not the Alpha, not the Chairman of the Board; just Vivian. There was that new recipe for veal tagliatelle her sister emailed her; that bottle of Syrah she'd picked up might go well with it. Then, maybe she would raid her son's DVD collection for a movie or two to enjoy over a pint of ice cream . . .

Sherman Blackstone, the Pack's Keeper, appeared in her office doorway, grinned, and, in spite of the fact that she obviously could see him, knocked sharply on the jamb.

"Got a minute?" he asked, then walked in and sat down before she could answer. Vivian stared at him, and he stared right back, his eyes twinkling.

"Sorry to delay your tryst with Misters Ben and Jerry," he apologized without a hint of sincerity, "but I've received a message you need to know about."

Vivian didn't ask how Sherman knew what her plans for the evening were when she'd only just made them; she long ago had given up trying to figure him out. Still, he seemed cheerful, which suggested that whatever this was about wasn't serious enough to delay her plans for long.

"And what is it?" she asked serenely.

"I've asked Matt to meet me here," Sherman stated, his merry expression slowly faded into one of seriousness. "He has some experience with this kind of situation, so I'd like to wait until he shows up."

Vivian straightened in her chair.

"This isn't about Luke and Sophia, again, is it?"

Sherman shook his head.

"No, they're still doing fine," he assured her. "No, this is something else. Alpha business."

He wouldn't say anything more until Matt Donner showed up. Vivian didn't quite understand why Matt needed to be here. He might be the Wolf Lake County Sheriff and her strongest supporter, but he'd made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the day-to-day administration of the Pack, no matter that the Pack regarded him as her Beta. She couldn't imagine why he would willingly involve himself in any Alpha business.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait long. Matt Donner walked in, saw that Sherman had already arrived, and paused.

"Did you tell her?" he asked the other male.

"No, he wanted to wait for you," Vivian replied. "So, now that you are here, can we get on with this?"

"Vee's got a hot date with some Chunky Monkey," Sherman explained. Vivian glared at Matt, daring him to laugh. He made a show of biting the inside of his cheek and took the other chair in front of the desk. Once he was seated, though, both he and Sherman sobered.

"The message I received earlier today was extended as a courtesy only," Sherman said. "Alrik Ebsen will be coming tomorrow with two of his retinue. He's calling in the debt."

"Now, don't take this the wrong way, Vee," Matt said, "but you're going to need to be very careful when you deal with them. Yes, you are our Alpha, but these guys—"

"Wait just a minute," Vivian interrupted. "Who are you talking about, and what debt?"

* * *

Brianna inserted the ear buds of her iPod. It was a clear, sunny day, with the smell of autumn heavy in the air. She took a deep breath, adjusted her bag, punched up the volume, and stepped out the door.

* * *

Niel pulled the car into a parking space in front of the Sheriff's Department. He turned off the engine and looked at the younger male in the backseat.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked. Alrik's head lolled against the backrest, seemingly asleep. He opened his eyes leisurely and stared at the ceiling of the car.

"I want to get the feel of this place before talking to their female," he replied.

"She might take it as a challenge," Gerik said from the passenger seat.

"No matter what I do, she will view it as a challenge."

Alrik straightened up, ran his hands through his hair, then pulled his leather jacket on.

"Let's go for a walk," he said, and got out of the car.

* * *

Deputy Molly Young put the finishing touches on the report she was writing and hit Save. The sound of a car door shutting prompted her to look up. She froze when she saw the three males in front of the building. Her skin prickled, her mouth dried, and she actually felt her eyes dilate. She drew in a deep breath, and in that instant, a wave of powerhit her. She gasped soundlessly as that power swept over her from the males, then reversed, pulling something else along with it that swept through her and around her, buffeting her like a pebble caught in a tide. She gripped the arms of her chair and desperately tried to prevent herself from being swept away.

* * *

The power rolled through the streets of Wolf Lake, wrapping itself around its denizens. The humans who felt it shivered slightly and moved on. The werewolves stopped what they were doing and turned toward its source. As the three males passed, some of the werewolves felt challenged by their power and tried to stare them down, but quickly lowered their eyes and stood back, ashamed at their own daring. Some of the werewolves sank to their knees and bared their throats in joyful surrender. Some werewolves ran away in fear.

* * *

Sarah was checking her makeup in the reflection of a storefront window when the three strangers passed behind her on the sidewalk. The power flowed through her, locking her in place and swamping her mind with terror. When they rounded the corner and the power released her, her mind cleared. Her eyes dropped and focused on a large dark stain on her jeans. She whimpered when she realized she'd pissed herself.

* * *

The power reached out to the edges of the town and snaked its way through the forest, sinking into the ground as it went. After a heartbeat, the power came rushing back, carrying with it the essence of the land. The trees swayed with the tide, sending their own power along with it. Animals paused as instinct lit up their brains and shivered down their spines, then went back to what they were doing. They knew the feel of this power; it was just one of _them, _reading the land. Nothing to be concerned about.

* * *

Kit didn't know what was wrong with her today. She felt as if she were trying to walk underwater. Shaking her head, she reached for the handle of the door of the diner.

And then he rounded the corner.

Kit felt her mouth dry and her mind go blank when she saw him. The strange male who had so captivated her a few weeks ago. He was back, this time with two other males. She barely registered their presence, though, unable to tear her eyes away from him. His eyes raked over her, and he smiled, pleased. A tendril of power snaked from him and cut through the heavy, oppressive feel of the air to wrap around her. Without realizing it, she released the handle of the door and took a step toward him.

Suddenly, another male stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the street. Kit gasped at the abrupt release of power. Her head cleared enough to tell her it was Luke Cates, of all people! What was—

He was protecting her, she realized, as she stared at the strangers over his shoulder. The one who had tried to trap her grinned as he raked Luke with his gaze, then turned away and continued on up the street with his companions.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked her, turning around. Too rattled to speak, Kit just nodded. Luke snorted and shook his head. "Assholes," he muttered, casting a scathing glance at the three males. He opened the diner door, then helped her in and sat her in a chair when it became obvious she was too shaken up to do much for herself.

* * *

"That wasn't very nice," Niel chided Gerik.

"I want her," he stated, shrugging casually.

"No matter what, it's still her decision," Alrik murmured. He was only half-paying attention, but still managed to put enough of a bite into his words to tell Gerik that though they might be as close as brothers, Alrik would make sure it remained the female's choice.

"Yes, Alpha," he replied dutifully, and reigned his power in.

* * *

Brianna didn't know what it was, but she was feeling _great. _If she didn't know any better, she would have thought she was high. She didn't care, though; she wanted to howl with joy and chase her tail. Her latest novel was finished, she on break from her confinement, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day.

She bounced into the post office and slid across the floor to the counter, where she slapped her manuscript down on the polished marble surface and grinned up at the attendant.

"Heya, Charlie! How's it hanging?" she sang out.

"Hey there, Miss Young," Charlie replied, grinning weakly. Sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sick or something?"

"No," he said, then leaned heavily on the counter. Brianna reached out to take his hand, then gasped as a delightful prickling sensation ran throughout her body.

"Wow," she breathed, closing her eyes briefly with pleasure, then opening them again. "What is in the air today?"

"No idea," Charlie said tightly, and took her manuscript. He pulled himself together long enough weigh it and ring up the postage. "You be careful now, you hear?" he warned her.

"Sure thing," she promised and waved as she stepped out the door. She skipped off the steps and ran straight into a hard male body.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, and looked up into the face of the most gorgeous male she'd ever seen. "Oh," she breathed.

She'd never seen this werewolf before, and he _definitely _was a werewolf. Not human at all. No siree, not with that scent. Or those eyes. He gently held her arms to steady her, and at his touch, Brianna was consumed with the desire to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless in the middle of the street.

His lips curved into a little half-smile and flashed a bit of canine, as if he knew what she was thinking.

"I'll see you again soon," he promised in a low baritone.

For some reason, his words snapped Brianna out of her daze, and, as his attitude registered, she couldn't help but snort in laughter.

"Excuse me?" she asked. "'See you again soon?' Does that usually work for you?"

The male froze at her tone, and Brianna sensed the other two males with him tense. Suddenly, his smile widened and his expression became a little self-depreciating.

"No, not usually," he admitted.

"Then maybe you should try a different approach," she told him archly, then extricated herself from his grip and stepped around the little party. She felt their eyes on her as she walked away, head held proudly.

_Now _that, she thought mockingly, _was an _ego.

* * *

Vivian sat behind her desk, eyes closed, and practiced some deep breathing exercises in preparation for the meeting. Sherman idly flipped a quarter over his knuckles. Matt Donner paced before the fireplace, arms crossed, his expression grim.

"Where are they?" he demanded. "This meeting was supposed to start an hour ago."

"They'll get here when they get here," Sherman answered. Vivian ignored them both.

"It's _rude," _Matt snapped.

"Alrik Ebsen has been ruling his Pack for four years, but he's only nineteen," Sherman explained. "This is probably the first time he's been so far from his territory since he became Alpha. He needs to speak to the land and figure out how to set the tone for this meeting. Don't judge him too harshly."

_"Nineteen?" _Matt exclaimed.

"Nineteen," Sherman confirmed. "They breed 'em up strong on Changer Island."

A wave of power swept over the house. Vivian opened her eyes at the same time a knock was heard at the front door.

"Speak of the devil," Sherman said. "Now, remember what I told you. He's a good kid, but if you piss him off, there'll be nothing left of you but a grease stain on the carpet."

They listened to Vivian's assistant open the door and greet their visitors. The power engulfing them dissipated as they heard footsteps approaching. Vivian took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.

"I always did like this carpet," she told Sherman, then rose as three males entered the doorway of the study. Sherman continued to slouch in his chair, but Matt stiffened and dropped his arms to his side, wiping his face clear of expression.

"Mrs. Cates," the leader said in greeting.

"Mr. Ebsen," she replied, smiling serenely. "Please, come in."

The three males stepped over the threshold. _My god, he _is _young, _she thought as she and the Changer Island Alpha made themselves comfortable. Though a big male, it was evident from his bone structure that he hadn't filled out completely. Vivian was privately thankful for that; he looked strong enough already. She didn't want to have this conversation again when he was in his prime. The other two males, a few years older, but definitely in their prime, stood behind him and slightly to the left, keeping Sherman and Matt in their sights.

"I assume that your Keeper has already explained the purpose of this visit," he began.

"Yes," Vivian confirmed. "Apparently, you claim that we are in debt to you, and are now calling in that debt."

"And did he explain the nature of this debt?" he asked, smiling gently.

"He tried," she answered, "thought I admit to some confusion. Perhaps if I heard your side of the story, it may clarify things for me."

"It's simple enough," spoke up the older of the other two males. "When your Pack came to these shores, it was decimated. Your Alpha had just died, and there was no one to replace him. You sent representatives to us asking for help. We agreed to assume the more onerous duties of maintaining your land for you until a true Alpha was born, while allowing you to self-govern your own day-to-day business. After several generations, it became obvious that the, for lack of a better term, _Alpha gene_ had been bred out of you. So, again, you sent representatives to us, and thus began the new agreement. In addition to maintaining your land, we would give you females born to lines with histories of strong Alphas. In return, we required equal numbers of females from your Pack to be given to us. In the past sixty years, we've given you two. Now, it is your turn to give us two."

The story was pretty much the same as what Sherman had told her, though they kindly left out the part where the Wolf Lake Pack would have died out a century before if it hadn't been for the Changer Islanders' generosity. Intellectually, Vivian understood the situation they were in. However, she couldn't ignore her revulsion at the thought that two females that she knew, had watched play as children and grow up into strong, beautiful adults, would be forced to submit to complete strangers.

"And if I say no?" Vivian asked, testing the waters.

"Then our agreement is dissolved, and we'll take back our females," Alrik replied casually. "Oh, I forgot—they're both dead, aren't they? Well, then we'll just have to be satisfied with their offspring. You can keep Matthew Donner, he's a bit set in his ways, but I understand he has a daughter, Sophia. We'll be taking her."

"You will not!" Matt roared and lunged at the younger male. Alrik held up a hand, and a surge of power rose out of him and wrapped around Matt, freezing him in his tracks.

"And Ruby Cates, of course," he continued, as if there had been no interruption. "Where is Ruby, by the way?" Vivian pinched her lips together. "That's what I thought. Her absence from this land for several months has been noticed. It seems we are at an impasse, then. Unless you give us two females."

Vivian's nostrils flared, the only sign she gave of her rising terror. He'd stopped Matt in his tracks. _Matt Donner, _who was more powerful than Willard had ever been, even in his prime. And the youth _still_ held him, as if the effort cost him _nothing. _Just what kind of werewolves were these?

Nevertheless, she tamped down her fear and steeled herself.

"I am Alpha here—" she began, but Alrik interrupted her.

"You are not an Alpha," he stated softly. "Willard Cates, your late husband, was not an Alpha. His father was not an Alpha. No matter what your leaders have called themselves, your Pack has not had a _true_ Alpha for nearly two hundred years. In order for the land to accept you, so that you could _survive, _your Pack surrendered its sovereignty to mine; that means until I say otherwise, _I _am your Alpha."

He rose up out of his chair and leaned across the desk until his nose nearly touched Vivian's. She trembled as she watched his eyes Change, unnerved by the fact that they didn't change color or glow. Rather, the already pale blue turned icy, making the darker blue rings at their edges appear black, and his pupils stretched into slits, shimmering slightly as they reflected the light. _True wolf's eyes, _she thought with wonderment. _Only ever man or wolf, never truly Other, and through that, nothing but Other._

"We have been very, very lax with you," he whispered. "Don't make me yank that leash."

"I can't do it," she replied. "I can't force them."

"Find a way, or we will take Sophia Donner and Lucas Cates, in place of his sister." Alrik broke their gaze and straightened up. "He is a good, strong male. I wouldn't begrudge him a place in my Pack."

He turned on his heel and, followed by his males, left without another word.

A moment later, Matt dropped to the carpet. Vivian sprang out of her chair and knelt beside him.

"I'm alright," he groaned. She helped him up and onto the couch, where he sprawled with one arm over his eyes.

"You're trembling," she pointed out.

"Exhaustion," he replied. "I should have known better than to fight him."

"That went well," Sherman observed cheerfully.

"You think that went well?"

"We're all in one piece, aren't we?"

"What are we going to do?" she wondered.

"We're going to give him what he wants," Sherman replied and plucked an envelope from the desk. Sherman opened it and withdrew the one piece of paper. He read it and nodded thoughtfully, then added, "or, rather, _who _he wants." Vivian took the paper, then showed it to Matt. "Interesting choices, don't you think?"

"But they're—have they been _spying_ on us?" Matt demanded.

"Probably," Sherman said. "Although I doubt they'd think of it that way. Considering that, yes, technically, Alrik Ebsen _is _our Alpha, they probably consider it just looking out for their own."

Four words on the paper that made up two names. Two specific names, for two specific females.

"Why them?" Vivian asked.

"You got me," Sherman stated blandly. "Though it does make me wonder if I've missed something. The Changer Island Alphas come from a very old, very powerful line. They got that way by being good at what they do. The fact that they haven't demanded we uphold our end of the bargain before now means they were waiting for something."

* * *

After dropping off the homework she had to complete while confined, Brianna decided to swing by the diner to catch up on the gossip. She was more than a bit curious about the three strange werewolves who had been in town earlier, and was sure she wasn't the only one who noticed them.

As hoped for, the diner was packed to the brim. Unfortunately, the overall mood was edgy, and no one felt much like talking; they huddled together in small clumps, slowly chewing their food, eyes darting around. Every now and again, someone would start to say something and immediately be silenced.

"What is wrong with everyone?" Brianna wondered out loud as she dropped herself onto a stool at the counter. "Hey, Sophia," she called out.

"Be with you in a minute," the brunette said testily as she sailed by with a loaded tray. She dropped the food off, darted back to the service window and loaded the tray again. Eventually, she managed to get everyone served and came back.

"What I can do for you?" she asked shortly, not bothering to look up from her tab.

"Cheeseburger, fries and a coke," Brianna said perfunctorily, "and you can tell me just what is going on before I blow my stack. Because this attitude—" she indicated the whole diner with a circular sweep of her hand— "not working for me." Sophia finished scribbling, tore the paper off the tab, stuck it on the ticket mount, walked over to the fountain, drew two cokes, came back and set one in front of Brianna.

"It was those males," Sophia explained as she dropped a wedge of lemon into the other coke, shoved it to the bottom with a straw, then took a sip. "Whatever they did screwed with just about everyone today. Didn't you feel it?" Brianna shrugged.

"I was high on not being shut up in my house for a week," she replied and sipped at her own drink.

"Well, I was in here when it happened. I felt this, _wave _of something, and for a minute I was freaked out, but only because it was so strange," Sophia said. "Then, I just thought, 'ride it out,' and I went with it, and boom! It was all cool. I mean, I still felt like I was standing next to a Van der Graaff generator—"

"A what?"

"You know, one of those globes with electricity in them, and when you touch them your hair stands up?"

" I know what you're talking about!" Brianna exclaimed. "I _did_ feel something like that today. It was cool. And right afterwards, I ran into those males. Literally. I almost bounced off one right onto my ass."

"Really? What happened?"

"In a minute," she promised Sophia. "Keep going, or I won't tell you," she warned the other female. "And it's good. I promise." Sophia rolled her eyes, but did as she asked.

"Anyway, so I was dealing. Rusty just stopped for a minute, looked up, and was like, 'huh. Alright then,' and went right back to flipping burgers." Brianna grinned and shook her head. That was so Rusty . . . being at the bottom of the heap had its advantages. No one wanted to bother you because you were so far beneath their notice it was a waste of time, and it made you laid back about _everything._

"Next thing I knew, Luke all but carried Kit in and sat her down," Sophia went on. "Luke was _pissed. _He said one of the males tried to trap her, but Luke intervened."

"What assholes!" Brianna said, completely scandalized. "Trapping" was when you used your power to subvert the will of someone else, and as such was forbidden. The punishment for a first offense was a warning reinforced with getting your ass kicked six ways from Sunday. Second offenders didn't get back up again. "Is she okay?"

"She was so shaken up she kept breaking things," Sophia said. "Rusty sent her home."

"Alone?"

"No, her dad came and picked her up. Rusty insisted."

"Hey, Sophia! Can we get a refill over here?" one of the Hill Kids yelled across the diner.

"I'm on break!" she snapped back. To Brianna, she explained, "no one else wants to come in after today, so I'm on my own. God! It's like everyone's gone nuts. Luke had to run out because he sensed Randy trying to kill Sean. Literally. When those males passed, Randy went totally submissive. Sean got pissed and tried to stare them down, but then _Randy _got pissed and started whaling on Sean, completely berserk. Luke got them sorted out, then came back here, marched into the walk-in and started punching frozen meat. So then Rusty told me to get back there and settle him down before he broke his hand. And he said I needed to be . . . nice about it." Sophia blushed and looked away. Brianna's jaw dropped.

"Sophia Donner, tell me you _did not _do it with Lucas Cates in a freezer," she demanded.

"No!" Sophia protested. "I don't know what I was supposed to do. I just walked back there, and as soon as Luke saw me, he started _raving _about those three males, about how they were screwing with everyone, and how he couldn't stop them . . . and then, he just grabbed me and kept saying over and over about how they weren't going to get me . . . it scared me. And then he sort of stopped, and looked me—I mean really looked at me—and then he just kissed me. Just nice, and sweet."

Sophia leaned back from the counter, still reeling from the memory. Brianna laughed, and Sophia snapped out of her daze and glared at her.

"Oh, please, Sophia," Brianna chided her. "Luke has been in love with you since the third grade."

"Well if he loves me so much, why was he screwing Presley into a tree when he _invited _me to the lake that night?" Sophia shot back. Brianna rolled her eyes. That was over a year ago; she couldn't believe the female was still steamed about it.

"Because he's young, dumb and full of cum? He's a boy. Boys do things like that," she explained. "And he's _sorry, _so can you forgive him already? We want Happy Luke back. Mopey Luke is no fun at all."

"I don't know . . . whatever. I'll figure it out." Rusty rang the service bell and slid a plate of food up. Sophia brought it over to Brianna, then held the plate back. "Now, tell me what you know, or you won't get your food," she threatened. "Tit for tat. You promised." Brianna shrugged.

"I didn't really notice the others; just the guy I ran into," she said dismissively.

"Uhuh."

"Look, it's . . ." she sighed. "It was weird, okay? I ran into this guy, and he grabbed me, and I looked up, and . . . it was like, remember when you were a little kid, and you had this idea about what you wanted your mate to be like? Like, he'd be this tall, and his hair would be this color, and his voice would sound like this, and blah blah blah? And then you grow up and realize he's just a fantasy. That real guys are just as screwed up and boring as you are, and you either get used to it and put your fantasy aside, or you become some pathetic loser who can't get past her childhood and wind up sad and alone."

"Yeah . . . ?"

"Well, I looked up, and I realized that the fantasy wasn't about a guy looking a certain way, but making me _feel_ a certain way. And this guy made me feel it. Just right there. My fantasy guy. And, he was everything I wanted. Really wanted. He was just absolutely perfect in every way. And then, he opened his mouth . . . and what he said . . . just . . ."

Sophia leaned forward, lips parted slightly in anticipation.

"What?" she whispered.

"He just . . . completely ruined it. Just shattered the moment," Brianna stated. "You should have heard him. It was the most ridiculous thing ever._ Ever. _And I was like, Dude, check your ego."Sophia laughed and slid the plate of food in front of Brianna.

"What did he say?" she insisted. "Come on, tell me. I need something to make me smile while everyone else is freaking out."

Brianna chuckled, then took a deep breath and straightened up.

"He was like . . ." she paused, then said huskily, "'I'll see you soon.'" The two females burst out laughing. "I know, right? I was like, really? That's it, right there? That's all you got?" She shook her head and picked up a bottle of ketchup. "You want to know what he was like? He was a boy. Doesn't matter how powerful he was, or how good-looking. Just a boy."


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Kit stepped out of the door of the diner and locked it behind her. Rusty was still inside, but he usually went out the service door that lead into the alley. He had this strange aversion to coming into the front of the diner, so stayed in the back most of the time. No one really thought much about it anymore; he was just being Rusty.

Either way, she was glad to be done for the night and couldn't wait to get home. These days, she always felt tired and listless. It wasn't the result of being trapped; she'd recovered from that within a few hours. In fact, as soon as she managed to shake off the residue of that bastard's power, she became extremely angry. Who the hell was he, to trap her? Kit swore if she ever saw him again, he wouldn't get the a second chance at her, because she would crack his skull open with a tire iron.

No, she just couldn't shake this hollow feeling inside of her, as if she were cheated of something. _Maybe I'm just sick of letting people pushing me around, _she thought. _Not that I have much of a choice._

"Kit," a voice called out. She looked to her left, and saw Tyler Creed, his expression grim.

"Oh, God, it's Dad," she said, her mind jumping to the worst-case scenario, and hurried over. "It's his heart, isn't it?" Tyler hushed her.

"He's fine. Just get in the car." Kit immediately obeyed and jumped into the passenger seat of his tricked-out Ford 4X4. She probably was the only female in Wolf Lake who would jump when Tyler snapped his fingers; everyone else was too afraid of him. Not without reason, though. There were boys who were bad, and then boys who simply were bad news_. _Tyler tended toward the Nuclear Holocaust end of the latter camp. Still, she had nothing to fear from him; descending from a disgraced bloodline might be the only thing they had in common, but it was enough for them to appreciate the fact that, as a result, they were all each other really had.

_In the end, family is all anyone truly has, _she thought as he pulled away from the curb.

She began to question that assumption when they approached the turnoff to her house and he kept driving.

"Tyler, what's going on?" she asked, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the Alpha's house," he replied tightly.

"Why?" Asking was a reflex, but she was certain she already knew. In spite of all their precautions, the Alpha had decided that the Morris bloodline was too dangerous to allow to continue. Tyler was taking her to her death. "What happened, Tyler?" she demanded. There had to be a reason. It was the Alpha's prerogative to do whatever he—or she—wanted with the werewolves under their control. Still, even when it came to a Morris, the Pack would demand that there be some sort of justification.

"Shit," Tyler swore and punched the steering wheel. _"Shit, shit, shit!"_

He jerked the truck over to the shoulder of the road and turned the engine off. Kit leaned back as he reached across her and yanked open the glove compartment. He took out his checkbook and a pen, then leaned on the dash and began writing.

"This is complete bullshit," he muttered angrily. "Fuck you, Grandpa. _Fuck you."_

He tore the check out, then looked at it. Swearing again, he pulled his wallet out and extracted a wad of bills. He counted them, then shoved the mass of paper at her.

"Hide that," he ordered her. "First chance you get, you run. There's a thousand in cash; that should get you far enough away to cash the check. And then you just disappear, you hear me? Disappear, and never look back." He turned the engine over and pulled back onto the road. "Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all."

Kit smoothed out the money and peered at the check by the dim light of the dashboard. Holy—

"Fifty thousand dollars? What the Hell is going on, Tyler?"

"You've been fucking sold."

* * *

A large fire burned in the grate and heat was pouring out of the floor vents, but Sarah was still freezing. She didn't understand why this was happening. What could she ever have done that would make her Alpha kick her out of the Pack? She begged her parents to tell her, but they hadn't said anything beyond ordering her to pack her things. Their faces had been set and angry, and halfway through the process, her mother left the room. She heard the kitchen door slam, and then something shatter against the wall. Her father stayed to watch, and let her take only her clothes and a few keepsakes, speaking just enough to tell her that she wouldn't need anything else.

As they drove to the Alpha's house, he told her to remember that she was a Hollander, and if she did as she was told, everything would turn out all right. It was so different from what he'd lectured her about before, that being a Hollander meant holding your head up and not taking anything from anybody, unless it was the Alpha. Hollanders, he'd said, had it in them to be Alphas, but not just yet.

And now he was telling her to submit, but submit to what? All she really could understand was that she was leaving Wolf Lake forever, and her last duty as a Pack member was to obey the Alpha and not make a fuss about it.

When their car pulled up to the house, there were two large vans parked out in front, as well as the more familiar vehicles belonging to the house's occupants, a police cruiser, and Tyler Creed's unmistakable truck.

_All this just to officially kick me out? _she wondered. Just what, exactly, was going on?

Her father stopped the car, and they got out. He popped the trunk and pulled her bags out. He handed them to a male werewolf Sarah had never seen before. The male didn't look at her, but she felt his power sweep over her, and shivered in response. It was like the power she'd felt when those other strange males came before, though muted. His sweep paused at her feet, then rose again slowly, as if he were confused. _Then _he looked at her, narrowed his eyes, and put her bags on the ground instead of in the van.

Her father ignored all this and escorted her mother into the house, calling behind him for Sarah to follow. Before, he would have taken her arm, too, and escorted them both. Now, it appeared she simply wasn't worth the effort.

Once inside, they were taken into the Alpha's study. Vivian Cates was not present, but Sheriff Donner and Sherman Blackstone were. So was Tyler Creed, leaning against the wall behind the door, his arms crossed, eyes blazing with anger. Seated in a chair next to him was his cousin Kit Morris—was she getting kicked out, too? _That _made sense. Everyone said the Morrises were nothing but troublemakers.

The Hollanders made themselves as comfortable as possible, then settled down to wait. No one said anything. After a little while, Sarah heard another car pull up, the pop and slam of doors opening and closing, then muted shouting. The front door of the house opened, and the violent argument spilled into the hallway. Three female voices wound around and across one another, the anger so thick Sarah could taste it.

Soon enough, Mrs. Young stormed into the study, dragging her daughter Brianna and followed by Elizabeth, Brianna's twin.

"Get your hands off me, you _fucking hag!" _Brianna roared and ripped her arm out of her mother's grasp. Mrs. Young spun around, hand raised in preparation to slap her daughter.

"Don't you dare," Elizabeth warned in a mean tone and pulled her sister behind her, putting herself between the two of them. Sheriff Donner grabbed Mrs. Young and pulled her into the hallway, shutting the door behind them. Sarah heard them speaking, but their voices were too low for her to make out any words.

"Very nice," Tyler Creed drawled and slowly clapped as Elizabeth led Brianna over to the couch in front of the fireplace. "Nice to know someone's not going to go quietly."

"Like we need your approval," Elizabeth spat. Tyler only smirked in response.

"Now, now. Settle down, ladies," Sherman rumbled soothingly. "You're scaring the Hollanders." Brianna snorted derisively, and flopped down on the couch. Elizabeth sat next to her and took her hand. They stared into the flames, their faces settling into inscrutable expressions.

After a bit, the door opened and the sheriff and Mrs. Young came back in. She was walking stiffly, simmering in indignation; he was merely angry. They walked over to the couch, Sheriff Donner stopping behind her.

"Brianna—" Mrs. Young began, but stopped when both her daughters snarled viciously at her. She backed away quickly and chose a seat across the room from them. They went back to staring at the fire.

Sarah hunched in on herself. Brianna monopolized so much of their attention people tended to forget that the more demure Elizabeth only _seemed _sweeter. In reality, she was worse than her twin when she turned nasty, if only because she so rarely lost her temper.

_So, there's me, and probably Kit Morris,_ Sarah thought. _Does this mean Brianna and Elizabeth are getting kicked out, too? _Brianna wasn't that much of a surprise; there was supposed to be something wrong with her, something weird, though no one had ever told Sarah. It hadn't appeared to make much of a difference in her Pack rank, though that might have had to do more with how incredibly powerful she was. Rumor had it the only reason Presley lead the younger females for so long was because Brianna had let her. Of course, that was before Sophia Changed and outstripped them both in ability.

But Elizabeth? Was she going? She was strong, too, though not as much as her sister. And, temper aside, she never caused any trouble. Maybe they just didn't want to break up twins.

And then something clicked in Sarah's brain. Brianna, Kit and herself. A freak, a troublemaker and a weakling. All three of them were failures in some way or another; all three detrimental to the Pack. Oh, god. This wasn't a punishment, it was a housecleaning.

* * *

Vivian waited until everyone arrived and had settled down before joining them. She wanted the tempers to cool a bit before saying her piece.

She paused in the hallway, fluffed her hair nervously, then opened the office door and walked inside. Everyone except for Brianna and Elizabeth Young stood as she crossed the floor. No surprise there; the two were famous for their iron wills, and Vivian had heard the argument all the way upstairs. She sat behind her desk, made herself comfortable, then laced her fingers together and leaned forward.

"You may sit," she said. Once everyone had done so, she continued. "I'm sure you are wondering why you are here—"

"Some of them already know," Tyler Creed sneered. Vivian silenced him with a cold look.

"Before I explain, I want to assure you that this is not a punishment. You are all—" she focused on Brianna— "valued members of this Pack. However, there comes a time for all of us when we must make sacrifices for our Pack.

"When we first came to this land, our Pack was failing. Much to our surprise, we came into contact with another Pack that had already been here for some duration. This Pack was very strong, and, at our request, they agreed to help us. They have continued to help us to this very day, though you would hardly know it. However, a few days ago, they sent a delegation, and requested that we fulfill our part of the agreement." Vivian paused and took a deep breath, not caring how anyone interpreted her behavior. "The agreement was, that in return for their daughters marrying our sons to bolster our own bloodlines, we would, at their behest, do the same."

Sarah Hollander gasped, losing all color. Her parents appeared stoic, but Vivian could scent anxiety rolling off them. As expected, they would obey, but they would not be happy about it. Brianna Young's face flushed a deep, angry red, her sister matching her in intensity, while their mother glared at them from across the room. Kit Morris simply stared at her hands in her lap, which were fisted so tight the knuckles were white. Tyler rested a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"I know how it sounds, but I assure you, you will be treated with the respect to which you are due. I have met with their Alpha, and he promised me that he will uphold the Law. You will be fully integrated into the Pack, you will choose your own mates, and you will _not _be cut off from your families here."

"This is a common arrangement between other Packs throughout the world," Sherman spoke up. "It is necessary for the survival of the species. Their ways will be a little different from ours, but they are still werewolves, and they still adhere to the same set of Laws. And, you aren't going very far—just a little west of Seattle."

"Why these females?" Mr. Hollander spoke up. Vivian regarded him silently, then swept her gaze over the room, allowing it to settle briefly on Brianna and Kit.

"They have chosen you," she said. "They believe that you will enrich them, both with your many talents, as well as with yourselves. And I agree with them. You are more than worthy of them.

"Now, it is getting late, and you need to be on your way." Vivian stood and motioned for them to exit. She followed them, flanked by Matt and Sherman. Matt discreetly took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it.

When they got outside, one of the Changer Islanders approached her and bowed slightly.

"Alpha Ebsen wants to speak with you," he said quietly, and offered her a cell phone. She nodded and, excusing herself, took the phone and stepped away from the group.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I am told that you're offering us three females," Alrik Ebsen said low enough not to be overheard. "You are being unnecessarily generous. I only want the two."

"You're getting three," she stated firmly.

"Sarah Hollander is weak and ignorant," he replied. "She is unfit for relocation to another Pack."

"You claim to be the _true _Alpha of Wolf Lake. If that is the case, then she isn't relocating to another Pack. She's simply relocating. Besides, nothing is certain. She may surprise you."

"I sincerely doubt it."

Vivian pinched her lips together. What was it about this boy that kept throwing her off balance so much that she was forced to reveal more than she intended?

"She has no future here. I am told relocation to another Pack is normal in that case. However, you are the only resource I have available at the moment, and I doubt that is the same of you. Once she is in your Pack, she is yours to do with. Keep her, or pass her on. It is no longer my concern."

She handed the phone back to the Changer Islander, who listened briefly, then looked at his companions and nodded. He ended the call and pocketed the phone while they loaded the last of the females' belongings into the vans.

Vivian thanked him, then returned to the group. Sarah's parents lectured her about the proper protocol to use when dealing with a new Pack, information they no doubt thought they would never have to give her. It really was too bad about her; she had such potential before she Changed. But her parents, in spite of their good intentions, had demanded too much of her. In the space of a year, they had ruined a perfectly sweet female that should have been content with the place Nature intended for her. Ambition was all very well, but it shouldn't be allowed to get in the way of common sense.

Well, she was Alrik Ebsen's disappointment, now. And who knew? Perhaps, away from her parents, she might regain that sweetness.

"We need to go, Ma'am," a Changer Islander told Vivian. She nodded and gestured for everyone to wrap up their goodbyes. Sarah's parents escorted her to one of the vans and helped her in. Kit followed her on her own, Tyler watching her silently. Matt and Sherman gently pried the twins apart; Elizabeth was sobbing, and Brianna looked on the verge of following suit before she stiffened, turned sharply, and marched over to the van holding the others. One of the males tried to help her, but she jerked away and climbed in under her own steam.

As soon as the vans pulled away from the house, Tyler, the Hollanders and Mrs. Young left. Vivian stood and watched the vans disappear into the distance, not registering the others' departures.

"Are you alright?" Matt asked.

"I think that I am going to spend the rest of the night throwing up," Vivian replied calmly. He smiled sadly.

"Would you like me to hold your hair for you?"

"No, thank you. I think I need to be alone with my conscience."

* * *

Brianna watched the landscape speed by through the window of the van. The males taking them away had moved them around so she was sitting against the wall farthest from the door. She received the impression that she was of greatest concern to them. _They should be, _she thought bitterly. First chance she got, she'd be out of there so fast they'd choke on her dust.

_But I'm not coming back here._

As far as she was concerned, Wolf Lake was dead to her. What else could it be? No matter what Vivian Cates said about her "being valued," it was obvious the older female was happy to see them all gone. Brianna, especially, must have been a huge embarrassment to her; evidence that the bloodlines in the Pack weren't quite as pure as everyone liked to think. The Youngs were an old and proliferate line; there wasn't a family in Wolf Lake that wasn't connected to them in some way. Heck, old Vee herself was Brianna's cousin on her mother's side.

And her parents! My god, that was the sickest joke of all. Brianna knew they hadn't truly loved her, and blamed her for that, though how it was her fault, she had no idea. _They _were the ones who'd mated and produced her, after all. Still, she'd never thought they actually despised her.

When she came home from the lake that night, she found them waiting. Or, rather, her mother and Elizabeth waiting. Her father had been watching television, completely ignoring her, as usual. All her things had been packed—Elizabeth's doing. She didn't trust their mother one jot, she'd explained. Elizabeth always had been the more suspicious; a trait Brianna was wishing she had done a better job of cultivating herself. All her clothes, all her books, her laptop, her financial information; everything she would need to move on. She'd even posed as Brianna and withdrawn five hundred dollars in cash from her bank account, which she hid under the removable velveteen tray in the jewelry box she'd packed with Brianna's clothes. _Just in case, _she'd explained on a mental link.

At first, Brianna hadn't understood what she meant, but her mother made it quite clear for her. She practically had been dancing with glee when she informed her daughter that the Alpha had given her to another Pack, and hadn't even tried to hide what that meant for their family.

_We're finally getting rid of this stain on the Young name, _she'd told Elizabeth. Brianna no longer counted, except as a piece of trash to be thrown away.

She'd been so shocked, she just stood there in the foyer, trying to absorb what was happening. It was Elizabeth who had loaded her things into the car; Elizabeth who took her arm and led her out the door, telling her everything was going to be okay. Their mother was mistaken; they'd speak to the Alpha herself, in private, and explain how bad things had gotten for Brianna, and ask that she be emancipated.

Brianna snapped back into herself while they were driving up to the Alpha's house. There was no way her parents could have made a mistake like this. If they did, they'd be shunned for it. You just didn't abandon your children; it was Law. No, Vivian wanted her gone, so the Pack could go back to pretending it was pure, like it had thought before she hit puberty and the awful truth had come to light.

Or maybe this was about her writing. Yes, Vivian had been the one to speak with the Youngs when her first book came up, but it had been Willard Cates's decision to let her publish it. Maybe Vivian hadn't approved; maybe she'd agreed with Brianna's parents, and Willard overruled her. And then Willard died, and it was only a matter of time before Vivian found a way to get rid of her.

No, other than her twin, there wasn't much she was going to miss about Wolf Lake. Maybe the scenery, but there were plenty of beautiful places in the world. Places where she could settle down and live her life and no one would pay any attention to her.

Actually, now that she thought about it, this was something of a blessing. She was getting to leave; she was going to see the world, and not have to give a damn whether her actions put the Pack in danger. All she had to worry about now was herself.

And the rest of them could just burn in Hell.

* * *

The vans pulled onto the highway and punched up their speed, in a rush to leave Wolf Lake behind. None of the Changer Islanders would feel comfortable until they were home.

For all that Changer Island had been the true reason behind Wolf Lake's survival, they weren't truly the same Pack. That meant Wolf Lake itself wasn't their territory, and it always was uncomfortable walking through land that wasn't your own. Everything smelled different, _felt _different. Sure, territory wars were fought over land, but there was always the sense that it was what the land wanted. Either new inhabitants, or a wake-up call to the current population. In the end, it was always the land that decided, and they were both its children and its instruments.

That was one of the factors that had gone into the selection of these two particular females. Strong, magnificent specimens, they would have been an asset to whatever Pack they belonged to. But it came down to the land, and the land called Wolf Lake had decided that they didn't belong to _it. _No, they needed to be sent out into the world to find their own way.

Lucky for them, the land was listened to by the custodian of the land they did belong to. Six months ago, Alrik had called summoned his Beta and Keeper in the middle of the night. He'd been woken out of a sound sleep, he explained, by the Wolf Lake land. It was the first time in two centuries that land had spoken to the Changer Island Alpha, so Alrik was inclined to listen.

He told them that the land had said two females needed to go, and sang to him their essence, showing him how they resonated with Changer Island. That was more than enough for him to decide it was time to call in the debt. Males were sent out, lead by the Beta, to investigate and see who exactly these females were to their Pack. Plans were laid carefully, to make their selection seem more random. Alrik wasn't sure how Wolf Lake's Female, as he referred to Vivian Cates, would react if she knew that they were all merely pawns to the land. Wolf Lake's consciousness of its land had suffered considerably in those two centuries they'd been without their own Alpha.

Then there was the matter of the three females they'd taken away. The emotions rolling off them was enough to make anyone nervous; the sooner they were ensconced on the island and settling into their new lives, the sooner they'd calm down.

And then maybe Niel could stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The first shoe had been the addition of the third female. Initially, Niel assumed she was friends with the two females, and had come to see them off. However, when her father gave him her baggage with the expectation that it would be loaded into the vans, he'd been surprised enough to call Alrik immediately. He might be older and more experienced than his Alpha, but he had no idea how to deal with this kind of situation. Their deal with Wolf Lake was one-for-one; did this mean Vivian Cates expected Changer Island to pony up another female?

And what kind of female did she expect in return for thisone? Since every Pack was governed by hierarchy, there was always going to be someone on the bottom. The problem was, there weren't any werewolves, female or otherwise, so weak as to be a fair trade. They also didn't have any problem babies they could off-load on Vivian Cates in retaliation, because that's exactly what this Sarah Hollander was: a giant disaster in the making.

The female was as dead to her own senses as rocks were to humans. She just glided through life, blithely assuming that her parents' status was enough to get her out of whatever jamb she found herself in. In her birth Pack that might be true, but out in the real world, such naïveté was fatal, and anyone else around would be dragged down with her.

And now she was their problem. Vivian Cates had maneuvered things somehow so Alrik felt compelled to take responsibility for her. And he would, too. Niel had watched his Alpha grow up, so knew there was no way Alrik would just pawn the female off on some other Pack. He'd feel too guilty about it.

Alrik assured him, though, that he would figure something out fast enough. Sarah Hollander wouldn't be their problem for very long.

The other two females' ejection, this time by their land, made more sense. Cristiane Morris, or Kit, as everyone called her, the one Gerik was sniffing around, needed about ten more pounds of weight to soften her edges and a short regimen of tranquilizers to calm her down. She was powerful, but it was obvious that that Pack politics and the effort it took to hide her true strength had worn her down. Niel made plans to keep her and Gerik apart until the female was confident that standing up for herself wouldn't necessarily get her slapped down. Gerik wouldn't like it, but if he had his way, she'd be wrapped up in swaddling and protected from every little thing in sight.

And then there was the Wild Child. Brianna Young. Werewolves' opinions regarding Wild Children varied from Pack to Pack. From her mother's behavior, it was obvious Wolf Lake didn't approve of them. That was fine; Changer Island understood their value and was more than happy to take her.

Alrik was going to have his hands full, though. No matter the controversy over them, it was universally agreed that Wild Children were stubborn, demanding, and, if not handled carefully, very, very dangerous.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

It seemed like no time at all before they arrived in Seattle. There was no gradual lightening of the darkness along the highway; rather, the landscape seemed to explode with thousands of soft, orange stars, working together to drive back the night. The interstate descended into a long cement canyon of sound walls that the vans threw themselves into, as if they'd become participants in a race with the other vehicles on the road.

Kit watched in wonderment as they sped over a bridge, then into another cement canyon, this time draped with long tendrils of plants. Over their tops, she could see the roofs of large houses. The smell of water invaded the vans, and was strangely comforting.

"This is Seattle?" she breathed in wonderment. Cities were supposed to be ugly, weren't they? This was beautiful . . .

"Mercer Island," Brianna replied with a brief shake of her head. "It's where all the rich people live. I remember it from when we came here when I was a kid. I liked it then, too. Now . . ." she trailed off, subdued.

Now it was just a reminder of something she could no longer have, was left unsaid. Kit didn't need words to understand that; Brianna's scent was all too clear. Wherever they were going, it was doubtful there would be any comfort for them. Kit shifted in her seat, purposely making the money and check Tyler had given her scrape against her skin to remind herself they were there. She'd tucked the wad of paper in her underwear, and hoped they wouldn't get searched before she found a better place to hide it.

"That's Seattle," Brianna stated, and nodded at the windshield. The vans had left behind Mercer Island and were shooting across yet another bridge, this one floating right on top of the water. A long, dark bank of hills rose up before them and stretched to the horizon on either side. It was dotted with thousands of little lights, like candle flames glowing in windows to welcome travelers, and an orange glow pulsed ominously from behind the hills.

It was only really in the past two decades that Seattle had become much of anything. Up until Microsoft moved in, the industry was next to nothing; the population was supported almost completely by Boeing, and even that had been failing. Then the software industry exploded, and somehow, Seattle got lucky and became its home base. The city itself had experienced an insane amount of growth in such a short time. In many ways, it was like a teenager that had just gotten its first credit card.

The teenager at least still remembered where its parents made its money, though, because the first part of Seattle they actually saw was the industrial district. The vans spat out between the tops of the hills and slowed enough for Kit to actually see anything of substance. Despite the hour, giant chimneys belched smoke from furnaces buried deep within their factories, some modern and made of cement, just as many old-fashioned brick. Billboards advertising equipment were scattered everywhere, giant neon signs garishly announced the names of the businesses beneath them. And far behind them, on the banks of the Puget Sound itself, she could see giant shipping cranes soaring hundreds of feet into the air, as if a crab were laying on its back just beneath the water, its legs poking through the surface.

The vans turned onto a ramp and merged into another interstate, this time heading north. They hurtled through a third canyon, this one made of glass and steel, then raced by another hill, a lake on one side, and flew over yet _another _bridge.

Finally, the vans slowed and turned off the interstate. Kit's body still vibrated with tension from the speed, however, and she felt slightly nauseas as they twisted and turned and climbed and dropped down side streets. All the trees and distance between street lights made it feel as if they'd descended into a dark labyrinth designed for the sole purpose of disorienting her.

_And somewhere, there's a minotaur waiting to eat us, _she thought, chilled.

Eventually, they pulled out onto a wide, flat street that was brightly lit, and she calmed down enough to try and regain some semblance of control over herself. Brianna was staring out the window, lost in thought. Her comment about Mercer Island had been the only thing she said since they left home. Sarah remained huddled in on herself, unable to silence the occasional sniffle; she'd been quietly crying the whole trip. Kit felt like she should do something to comfort her, but it was more from the obligation of being a stronger werewolf than any actual feeling for her. Sarah had just been one of the Hill Kids to her—obnoxious and spoiled, and too quick to slap down anyone she thought her lesser, no matter how true that was.

Besides, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to do when Kit wasn't certain how it would be interpreted by the males escorting them.

The vans turned right, into another wooded area. After a few more turns, they pulled into a marina and slowly crawled through the parking lot.

*What do you think we're doing here?* she wondered on a private thread to Brianna.

*Nothing good,* the other female replied.

The male driving turned off the van, and they all got out. One pulled open the sliding door to the back and motioned for the females to follow suit.

"You have five minutes to use the bathroom, and then we need to get going again," he stated blandly. "The tide won't wait."

"The tide?" Kit repeated in disbelief.

"Yep. We're called the Changer Island Pack for a reason," he replied. "Hurry up, now. We've still got two more hours to go."

No one had told them the name of the Pack they were given to. _Probably knew we'd completely lose our shit, _she thought. And they would have been right; for someone raised in a land-locked territory, Kit didn't even know where to begin to escape from an island.

* * *

Brianna stared at the patterns of shadows dancing across the ceiling and willed herself to get up. But get up and do what? By the slanting of the sunlight, she determined it to be around midday; that was if the journey to this godforsaken rock hadn't completely screwed up her inner clock.

Didn't change the fact that there were still several hours of daylight left, though. One thing she'd never been was lazy—okay, so she'd been lazy about her homework, but that didn't count—and the thought of doing absolutely nothing for an entire day was unfathomable.

Actually, she was doing something, wasn't she? She was staring at the ceiling, trying to avoid thinking about the fact that she was on an island in the middle of the Puget Sound, a thousand miles from home. Alright, not a thousand miles; more like two hundred, and probably not even quite that. Nevertheless, she was desperately searching for some way to distract herself from the fact that, only twelve hours earlier, she had been making out with Randy on a boulder in the middle of the Wolf Lake forest, and now she was waiting to be auctioned off as a broodmare to a complete stranger.

Maybe she should just go back to sleep.

A knock sounded on her door, and after a few seconds, Kit poked her head in.

"I thought you might be awake," she said and walked right in, closing the door behind her. She was carrying some clothes, a hairbrush and tube of toothpaste, which she set on top of the dresser, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "Are you okay?" Brianna shrugged and continued to stare vacantly at the ceiling. Kit didn't move.

"I dunno. I guess," Brianna said. "Are we supposed to be doing something right now?"

"Elise set up some food for us in the kitchen," Kit replied.

When they arrived, exhausted and cold and, in Brianna's case, drenched in vomit, they'd been taken to a large apartment that sat over what looked like a café. An older, matronly female werewolf had introduced herself as Elise and shown them to their rooms. Thankfully, they each had their own, though they had to share a bathroom. That was fine with Brianna; at the time, all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and collapse into bed. Now, though, her stomach was reminding her that it had been a lot longer than twelve hours since she'd last eaten.

"Did you feed some to Sarah first to see if it was drugged?" Brianna asked nastily. She was feeling even less charitable with Sarah than usual, considering the other female had puked all over her one set of clothing during the boat ride.

It turned out that they were only allowed to take one small bag with them on the boat, due to space restrictions. The rest of their belongings went with the vans, which had to be ferried back and forth across the Sound in order to get to a route that would take them back to the island. Since Elizabeth hadn't considered she might need an overnight bag, Brianna was left with the clothes on her back until some time tonight.

That had been fine with her; not the first time she'd worn clothes two days in a row. But then Sarah had gotten seasick, which they'd all been a little bit, no big surprise there, having never been on a real boat before, and now Brianna was stuck borrowing from Kit.

It was very generous of Kit to have made the offer, and Brianna was appreciative; it was just the hassle of it on top of everything else that was making her snippy.

"Sarah's not up yet, or I might have been tempted," Kit explained. Kit had gotten splashed, too, and probably would have been nicer about the whole thing if Sarah hadn't started whining about how miserable she was, as if she were the only one. "I looked in on her, but her back was to the door, and I couldn't tell if she was still asleep or just catatonic."

"Lucky her."

"Yeah. Still, I'm sure it's perfectly fine. Elise seems nice enough."

She had seemed nice, the way she'd clucked over the three of them like a mother hen and herded them into the apartment. She had chattered nonstop about inconsequentials, which was so completely normal in a not-at-all-perverted-Madam sort of way that it was comforting. Maybe she had said something about what they were supposed to do now, but Brianna had been way too tired to pay attention.

Brianna simply shrugged again.

"Alright, lazybones, time to haul your ass out of bed," Kit ordered. "Your brain will start to function again when you get some food in you." She patted Brianna on the thigh, then grabbed her hands and pulled her up.

"I don't _wanna _get up," she whined. "Can't I just lay her and die?"

"No, because that would mean I'd be alone with Sarah."

Brianna shuffled over to the dresser and stared at the clothes Kit brought her.

"I just realized I don't have any clean underwear," she stated dully.

"Go without. I'll be washing them later anyway."

Brianna pulled on the jeans and sweater, then swiped the brush through her hair. Thankfully, she had her own band to tie it back. She didn't dare look in a mirror; the air was so humid, her hair felt like a rat's nest, and Brianna didn't want to know how accurate that assessment was.

Going barefoot for the moment, she followed Kit down the hallway to the kitchen. They prowled through the cabinets searching for mugs, then poured themselves some coffee. Brianna took a sip of it black, sighed with pleasure as the caffeine took a shortcut through her saliva glands and went straight to the brain, then added sugar and cream.

Kit opened the oven and pulled out two loaded plates of food, which she set on the antique yellow and blue Formica table. She laid out napkins and forks, then got a jar of jam and butter from the fridge.

"I'll help you in a minute," Brianna promised.

"I don't mind."

She downed the rest of her coffee, poured a second mug, then sat at the table and picked up her fork.

*So did Elise tell you anything about what we're supposed to do?* she asked Kit on a mental link so they could eat and talk at the same time.

*Nope. All she said was she'd made us some food, and we were to take it easy for the rest of the day,* was the reply.

*What's she up to?*

*She runs the café downstairs.*

That explained the dishes, then. They had a generic, faded look to them, and felt like they'd been designed to take a beating. It also explained the hum Brianna had been hearing, but hadn't fully paid attention to. Now that her brain was functioning again, she could make out the low murmur of voices on the floor beneath them.

*She did say that it would be a good idea if we stayed inside for now,* Kit added as she spread jam on her toast. *I got the impression that she was worried something might happen if we wandered off on our own.*

*You mean like we'd try to run off? Why on earth would we want to do something like that?* Brianna wondered sarcastically.

*I think she was more concerned about what might happen to us, rather than what we might do.*

Suddenly, Kit switched their conversation over to a higher frequency.

*Speaking of running away,* she said cautiously, *my cousin gave me some money and told me to do just that as soon as I could.*

Brianna looked up at her sharply.

*Hold on a sec,* she said, then broke their connection. Kit's frequency had been high enough to keep out all but the most powerful of eavesdroppers. However, given the feeling of power the island was wrapped in, Brianna was positive there were at least a few werewolves here who could manage it. She put down her fork, closed her eyes, and concentrated.

*What the hell?* Kit exclaimed, dropping her own fork in shock.

*I don't want us to be overheard, so I switched us to AM Radio,* she explained.

*Huh?*

*It's just a different telepathic band wave. When I first Changed, it was the only way I could communicate without actually opening my mouth, and Elizabeth was the only person who could hear me, probably because she's my twin. I had to wait until she Changed before figuring out how the rest of you did it, and even then she had to teach me. By then, though, I'd figured out how to actually project into other people's minds. Everyone I do it to thinks it's freakish, so I avoid it unless it's important.*

*I wouldn't say it's freakish, just . . . different,* Kit observed. *I keep getting really clear pictures of what you're thinking, and I think I'm picking up some of your emotions, but your actual words are sort of fuzzy.*

*Elizabeth said it hits her in a different part of the brain. That's certainly true for me for the way the rest of you communicate. I still can't do it your way for more than a few minutes before getting a raging headache.*

*Oh. That sucks.*

*Tell me about it. So, what were you saying?*

Kit told her about the drive up to the Alpha's house, and explained about the cash and the check Tyler had given her, though she left out how much the check was for.

*I've got some cash, too,* Brianna admitted. *My sister raided my bank account for me as soon as Mom told her I was leaving. It's not that much, though. Only five hundred bucks, which was as much as the bank would let her take out, since I'm under eighteen.*

*Where is it right now?*

*Packed up in my stuff. Elizabeth didn't want anyone to know where it was, in case they tried to take it from me.* Kit nodded. *Our cash together should get us far enough away so I can access the rest of my money, though. And I'll have some more coming to me when my latest book is published.*

*We're still going to have to get jobs, though,* Kit warned her.

*Fine by me. Just so long as they're as far away from here as possible.*

*Do you think we should take Sarah?*

They both paused. Brianna slowly chewed her eggs as she considered it. Should they take Sarah? She couldn't imagine the other female would be much use, but then again, none of them had ever been in this situation before. For all they knew, Sarah would be even more resourceful than themselves.

*I guess so,* Brianna ventured. *I mean, she is really annoying, but . . . I don't know. It doesn't seem right to just leave her here.*

*I suppose,* Kit replied. *Though I don't think we should trust her enough to tell her how much money we have, or where we're keeping it.*

*Of course not!* Brianna snorted. *She's a total flake; she'd probably steal it and blow it on clothes, or something else stupid like that.*

*We're all going to have to tighten our belts for awhile,* Kit said.

*I know. Ramen noodles and peanut butter crackers all around. It'll just be for a little while, though, right? No more than a year or so.*

Kit blanched. A year of being on the run and eating crappy food? She hadn't thought _that _far in advance.

*We can still hunt for meat,* she reminded Brianna.

*Not if we're living in a city,* Brianna rebutted. *And a city will be the best place to hole up at first; harder to track us with all the smells. Besides, most human females don't hunt. It would attract attention if we kept showing up with fresh game.*

*True. So, where should we go? I think I'd like to try Florida,* Kit suggested with a smile. *Warm sandy beaches, spicy food . . .*

*Alligators when you're hunting and hurricanes every other time,* Brianna retorted. *Though Miami's certainly big enough. Maybe we could try—wait a minute.*

Brianna cocked her head, then severed the connection.

"Someone was trying to listen in," she told Kit.

"I thought you said no one else could broadcast like that except you."

"No one that I've met so far. All I know is that it felt like something was trying to poke into the thread. That's how people eavesdrop normally, right?" Kit nodded. "Right. We can talk about this again later. We still have to figure out how to get off the island before we do anything else."

* * *

Alrik opened his eyes and smiled. When he'd sensed that strange pulsing in the sea of power that flowed across the island, he thought it necessary to check out. He hadn't intended to bother the three females today; he agreed with both Niel and Elise that they needed time to recover from their trip. Still, he couldn't help himself when he realized the twist was some type of communication between Brianna Young and Cristiane Morris, and had probed it. He caught the barest hints of words and a handful of emotions before she detected him and severed the thread. That, in itself, was even more fascinating. He was skilled enough to eavesdrop on any conversation, no matter how private, without being discovered.

Then again, there was a great deal they didn't understand about Wild Children. What little documentation was available mostly concerned itself with how to deal with them, and debates as to whether they were assets or detriments to a Pack. Privately, he thought it had more to do with the Pack in question than the Wild Child itself. Though incredibly strong, it was obvious they were also, in their own way, very fragile. Their minds simply didn't work the same way as other werewolves, and if one didn't take that into account when dealing with them, the results could be catastrophic for everyone involved. Including the Wild Child, which was something most of the documentarians had preferred to overlook.

The entire situation was promising to be very interesting, and a welcome distraction from the tedium of his routine duties. Not that he was naïve enough to wish every day brought a new adventure; no, tedium was vastly preferable to the unexpected.

Still, a little bit of _safe _chaos was acceptable, and Alrik was looking forward to it. If he could only figure out what to do with Sarah Hollander, then everything would be perfect.

During his discussion with Vivian Cates over the phone, when he realized she wasn't going to budge on the issue of the third female without a serious display of power, Alrik had descended and stretched himself to connect with the Wolf Lake land. It confirmed what Cates had said; Sarah Hollander truly had no future with the Wolf Lake Pack. If it had been any other Pack, this would have been realized as soon as she survived her first flip, and she would have been gently, but firmly, nudged out the door. But the Wolf Lake Pack was so decimated from not having a true Alpha for so long that they hadn't seen the signs.

Or maybe they had. Vivian Cates certainly did. Perhaps she simply hadn't known what to do with the female. After all, theirs was a closed territory; as far as Alrik knew, the only other Pack they'd had dealings with in recent history was Changer Island, and that had been extremely limited. Combined with everything else they didn't seem to know, he was left to draw the conclusion that their Keeper, in charge of educating them about the ways of their own species, was holding information back.

Alrik wondered why; Sherman Blackstone—as he was calling himself this century—was famous in the history of their lore. Reputed to be thousands of years old, he had been a Keeper for various different Packs down through the ages. The only things that were truly known about him were that he definitely was _not_ a werewolf, and always showed up in the most turbulent times and places. This might have made Alrik nervous as to the future of the Packs in the region, except Sherman had come west with the Wolf Lake Pack, and nothing truly chaotic had happened so far. Also, he couldn't sense from the land whether something was coming.

One of the benefits of being an Alpha was you had ample warning for whatever might be coming your Pack's way. No doubt it was a trait that had evolved to keep their species alive. Humans may have cultivated a reputation for widespread destruction, but they were positively benign compared to werewolves when they lost control. After all, human legends weren't completelyinaccurate. Look at the havoc the Beast of Gévaudan wreaked, and that was just one individual on a bender. Full-scale wars between Packs were indescribable in their destruction.

A timer sounding far off in the house broke through his musings, and he sighed. Tedium beckoned.

* * *

The door chimed as it opened and yet another werewolf walked into the Fræc Café. He stopped, looked around at the packed room, then wedged himself into the small space between the wall and the last stool at the counter. Elise muttered to herself in frustration; at this rate, she was going to have to ask one of the females to come down and help her with this lot. Which, of course, was what said lot intended.

They had been arriving in droves ever since she opened for the morning, which was unusual, to say the least. Changer Island's population was small, and though the Fræc Café did well, it had never been this busy. Elise should know; she'd owned it for forty years.

What they truly wanted was a glimpse of the Wolf Lake females. The news that they would be receiving some new members had buzzed through the island for months. Now that they were here—and that there were three instead of two—no one could contain their excitement. Well, the _females _could; the males, on the other hand, didn't see a reason to reign in their curiosity.

You couldn't really blame them. In order to stave off inbreeding, Changer Island regularly exchanged members with other Packs confronted with the same problem. At least every generation had one or two individuals who had been born somewhere else. Still, this was the first time they'd ever met anyone from Wolf Lake.

In spite of Changer Island's connection to Wolf Lake, that territory remained a mystery to the majority of the Pack. It was a mystery to the werewolf international community; no one ever relocated there, and no one ever left. So, no one had ever met a Wolf Lake werewolf before. The fact that three of them were now in residence and expected to take mates meant that finding out more about them currently was high on people's To Do lists.

Elise had explained to her first wave of customers that the young females weren't coming down today. They needed to recuperate from their long journey the night before. She didn't add that one of the reasons why they were so tired was, as Niel explained when he first dropped them off, that they hadn't been aware they were leaving in the first place. As a result, they'd been running about per normal which, according to the impression he received of the place, meant they'd been partying pretty hard. Also, they were completely unprepared for the total upheaval of their lives, and were emotionally drained.

Elise shook her head at the memory of her conversation with Niel as she slapped together sandwiches for the customers.

Niel had been disturbed by the way Wolf Lake mishandled the relocation. The whole trip back, the Changer Islanders had been overwhelmed with the females' terror and rage. Elise could imagine; she'd only been in the females' company for a few minutes herself, but, in spite of being muted by exhaustion, their emotions were enough to unsettle her, so much that she readily agreed to Niel's next recommendation.

Normally, when a werewolf relocated, they were given a few days to settle in, and then allowed to throw themselves into Pack life. They only received any kind of guidance when they were on the verge of a grievous misstep, which, given the ubiquitous nature of the Laws that governed the Packs throughout the world, was a rare thing. In other words, it didn't seem necessary for new members to be supervised.

These females were different, Niel explained. It appeared at first glance that the Wolf Lake Pack did follow the Laws; however, upon closer examination, it appeared that it was loose in its interpretations of some, and stricter in others. So much so that Niel worried grievous missteps would be commonplace if there wasn't at least some kind of buffer between them and the rest of the Pack.

So, for the time being, Elise was going to be the females' personal sheepdog, keeping the wolves at bay, until they safely figured out how they, too, were supposed to be wolves.

And then, Niel had added to her worries by telling her to keep Gerik away from the oldest of the females. Apparently, he'd already staked a claim on her, and his subsequent courtship methods hadn't been appropriate, to put it mildly. Niel thought she might be good for Gerik; the question was whether Gerik would be good for her. So, until told otherwise, Gerik needed to be kept away. If Gerik didn't listen to her, then she was to immediately summon either himself or Alrik.

_No argument on that score,_ she thought as she scooped up the plates and hustled back out to the front. Elise was no slouch herself when it came to power, but Gerik was something else. If Alrik hadn't been so much stronger even as a child, Gerik would have become the Alpha when he relocated here. _And we would have been glad to have him. _In spite of his current behavior, Gerik's strength was matched with a deep sense of honor and powerful empathy.

Elise passed the food out to the appropriate customers, then made the rounds to ensure that everyone had what they needed. She fended off questions about the females, refilled drinks, fetched extra napkins and silverware, and privately wondered if the growing excitement was heading toward a fight. That would be a _wonderful_ introduction to the females' first Pack outside their own.

Still, she was going to have to get them out in the open where people could stare as much as they needed to and be done with it. That could be done tonight, she decided, after everyone had gone. She would announce that the café was closing early, and if anyone protested, she'd just casually point out that most of them had spent the entire day here, and no doubt there were things they'd left undone elsewhere. _And, _since she owned the place, she could goddamn do with it whatever she wanted.

But she wouldn't be able to get away with that kind of sass for a few more hours yet. So, she put her nose to the grindstone and got back to work.

* * *

Unfortunately, Elise's plan for a simple walk around the island to show the females the sights—and safely expose them to the sights of the Islanders themselves—was thwarted by the arrival of the vans with their belongings. She estimated that, by the time they were unloaded and the females had unpacked, it would be too dark for such a walk to have much of any meaning. They wouldn't be able to see much, even with their night vision, and the Islanders themselves would either be settling in for the evening, or flipping their skins in preparation for a different kind of walk. Meeting their new Pack members without even the thinnest layer of humanity to mute Nature's call to their instincts was a recipe for disaster.

Elise let the males with the vans into the apartment, then held the door for them as they climbed up and down the stairs, carrying what seemed an endless procession of boxes and luggage. Well, that was something of a relief; less for the females to have to replace. Apparently, their removal from their old Pack hadn't been quite that hasty if they had time to pack so much.

Where they were going to put it all was a different question, however. The apartment was spacious, but perhaps not quite enough.

When the last box had gone up and the vans were empty, Elise offered the males a meal, but they declined. It had been a long journey, and they were anxious to get home. Elise was sympathetic; she'd heard on the radio that one of the routes was short a ferry due to mechanical malfunction, which meant traffic must have been abysmal for most of the day.

Exhausted from her own labors, she trudged up the stairs, straight into the chaos.

It turned out most of the boxes belonged to the blonde. The oldest one, Cristiane, who informed Elise that she generally was called 'Kit,' was attempting to help her. The result was akin to too many cooks in the kitchen; each had their own idea of how to proceed, and neither was stopping long enough to take a breath and hear what the other had to say.

"I don't even know where anything is," the Wild Child snarled in frustration. "Elizabeth probably just shoved things where she could find the space."

Kit opened her mouth to reply, but Elise cut her off. She was holding an open box cutter at the moment, and the older female had a feeling that another minute of this was going to end up with blood being shed.

"Alright, Ladies," she stated. "Settle down. Just shove the boxes against the walls for now, and we'll sort them out after we eat."

The mention of food did the trick, as both females stopped to look at her, then quickly moved everything around so there was a clear path down the hallway. She led the way into the kitchen and set the meat she'd brought up in the sink.

"I thought we'd have venison steaks tonight," she commented and began to unwrap them.

"Haven't you been working all day?" the blonde asked. "Sit down, we can do it." She shooed Elise into a chair, who simply cocked an eyebrow in mild reprimand, but obliged her all the same. Her feet were killing her; no point in fighting over it, even if it was her own kitchen. At least she could direct traffic and limit the mess.

The blonde—Brianna, Niel had called her—scurried about the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards and drawers, pulling out pots and pans and utensils with all the energy of a crazed ferret.

"She's been a bit stir-crazy," Kit explained as she set a cup of coffee down in front of Elise. _No kidding, _Elise commented to herself and took a sip. "I'd help, but I'm not much of a cook," Kit added as she sunk into the chair opposite.

"I still don't understand how you could work in a place that served food and not learn how to make it," Brianna declared as she furiously peeled and chopped the potatoes she found under the sink.

"I was a waitress," Kit clarified, for probably what was the umpteenth time that day, Elise guessed. "Besides, Rusty didn't like it when other people messed about in his kitchen."

"Oh, please. _Everybody _messes around in there all the time," Brianna refuted.

"At three in the morning, when you come back from a run and think some fries would be nice company for the raw squirrel in your stomach," Kit retorted. "He isn't there to witness it, so in his mind, it never happened."

"The money we leave doesn't just magically appear."

"As far as he's concerned, it does. Fair exchange for the food that seems to evaporate into thin air, even when it's forty degrees out."

Elise allowed the girls' chatter to sweep over her; the normalcy of it was a soothing contrast to the anxious fatigue of the morning. Besides, it told her more about them than any personal questions could reveal.

Perhaps this was for the best, then. A nice, relatively quiet evening at home, where they could relax, eat and unpack their things. Then, tomorrow, Elise would post notice that the café was closed for the day, and show them their new home instead. Then, she could have a better picture of what the three of them were like when she spoke with Alrik.

"Where's the other one?" she asked, more sharply than she intended. Brianna and Kit froze. "Sarah, is it? Where is she?"

"She hasn't come out of her room yet," Kit finally explained. "We tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't answer us."

"Don't worry, we checked to make sure she didn't choke herself on the pillow stuffing," Brianna said tartly as she turned back to the steaks.

"That's not fair," protested Kit. "She's just overwhelmed, is all. She's not like us," she added in a hushed tone. Brianna made a contemptuous noise as she popped the steaks into the broiler.

"She's a whiney little brat," she declared as she drained the potatoes and set them back on the burner to dehydrate. "She's been pampered for so long it's made her weaker than she actually is."

"She just needs a little time. I'm sure she'll be feeling more up to it tomorrow," Kit opined.

"She just needs a spine," Brianna sniped back. "But, whatever. If she wants to hide in her room, she can go right ahead. How rare do you want your steak?"

* * *

"Fræc" is a variation on "frec," which means "greedy" in Anglo-Saxon (Old English), and is pronounced "frak," though I swear it has nothing to do with Battlestar Galactica. It comes from the same root as "Freki," the name of one of Oðin's wolves, translated as "the greedy one," or, sometimes, "the ravenous one." The Fræc Café is named in honor of Freki, who, along with Geri, may have been worshipped (or at least honored) by the Úlfhéðnar, warriors who wore wolf pelts into battle, and were thought to have been possessed by the spirits of wolves.

Okay, so it's also a really bad pun. Sue me.


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

The sun was shining brightly overhead, but still wasn't enough to balance out the chill of the wind blowing over the water that cut through Sarah. She, Kit and Brianna were being dragged around this horrible little rock in the middle of nowhere by their jailer. The wretched old female was actually proud of the fact that she lived at the back of beyond, and kept pointing things out to them like they were the rarest, most wonderful sights in the world.

And Kit and Brianna kept encouraging her! Sarah couldn't figure out why; from what she'd overheard them talking about yesterday, they hated this place just as much as she did. But no, as soon as Elise paused for breath, one of them would ask a question, and she'd be off again, going on and on about the most boring topics she'd ever heard.

"So, why is it called 'Changer Island?'" Kit asked. "Isn't that kind of an obvious name for a werewolf territory?"

"Actually, it's the short name for the island," Elise said, "and an English translation, at that." Oh, god. There she went again. Who cared what this place was called, or why? "The real name roughly means 'Island of the People the Changer Missed.' I'm sure there's a better translation of it somewhere, but that's as much as my limited poetic abilities will allow. We didn't name it ourselves, of course; for us, it was just home. That was what the local Salish tribes called it, and it just stuck."

"Why?" Brianna asked. "What does it mean?"

Elise started to prattle on about some story the natives had about the moon changing people into animals, and how when the Pack showed up, they thought the moon must have screwed up when trying to change them, because they could flip back and forth between forms. Sarah wasn't really paying attention; she just wished they could go back inside, where the salty air didn't ruin her complexion and people didn't stare at her.

This new Pack was the worst, as far as she was concerned. They had no manners at all, and kept walking up and talking to them as if they'd known the three of them forever. Honestly, didn't these people understand anything? You were supposed to wait for someone who knew both you and the other person to introduce you, and then if the person you wanted to meet was amenable, you waited for _them_ to start talking to _you_.

But what could she honestly expect from them? After all, it wasn't as if they had ever been exposed to anything resembling culture.

Sara stumbled as she climbed over a large rock, and one of the hicks who had approached them grabbed her arm to steady her. He was stronger than she was, so she didn't challenge him by looking him in the eye, but she did pull her arm from his grasp and back away.

"Thank you," Brianna pointedly said to him and yanked Sarah to her side. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded in a stage whisper.

"He shouldn't have touched me," Sarah retorted. "I didn't give him permission."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Brianna muttered. "You would prefer to fall flat on your face? Fine, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to let you do that from now on. And try to keep up. This walk is taking forever because you keep falling behind."

"It'll go even shorter if you shut up," Sarah said under her breath. Not low enough apparently; Brianna whirled around and glared at her, and Sarah retreated, convinced she'd gone too far.

"Everything alright back there?" Elise called out. Brianna backed down.

"Fine," she called back. To Sarah, she snarled, "watch yourself, Brat. I've had it with your 'poor little me' attitude. Start pulling your weight so we can get out of here."

She flounced up to Elise and pointedly ignored Sarah for the rest of the walk. Kit dropped back and tried to chivvy her along.

"I know it's cold," she said. "If you walk faster, you'll warm up, and we'll get inside all that much sooner." Sarah didn't respond, too wrapped up in her own misery.

They plodded along for another ten minutes or so, Elise's inane prattle drifting back to them on the wind as she pointed out yet another rock that she found absolutely fascinating.

"Who does she think she is, anyway?" Sarah finally burst out. Elise paused and looked back at them. Kit gestured to her that she'd take care of it, and the older female went back to what she was saying to Brianna.

"Lower your voice," Kit ordered her. "Brianna's been in a bad mood all morning. Don't give her an excuse to pick a fight."

"Oh, so she's the only one allowed to be in a bad mood?"

"No, of course not, but she could really hurt you, Sarah. And she's not being contrary; something's really wrong with her."

"There's nothing wrong with her," Sarah declared. "It's just _her _being a brat. She's always been like this. You _know _that. Everyone knows that. It's why they call her 'Bratty Brianna.'"

Kit sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose.

"No, Sarah, there really is something wrong with her," she stated in a frustrated tone. "Can't you smell it? Something's shifted in her, and she knows it and she's scared. This isn't a good time to get sick. It could be used against her."

"Oh, you mean _that," _Sarah said with a superior toss of her hair. "She's just having one of her episodes."

"Her what?"

"Really, Kit, I thought everyone knew about Brianna," she sniped, feeling a bit better now that she had something over a Morris. It was unbearable the way Kit had been ordering her around these past few days, as if a Morris had the right to tell a Hollander anything.

"What was that about Brianna?" Kit demanded, grabbing her arm and squeezing, apparently unconcerned that she was mistreating her superior. Sarah tried to pull away, prepared to explain her mistake to her, but Kit wouldn't let go. "Just what is it that everyone, except for me, apparently, knows about Brianna?" she snarled.

The violent sound coming from the normally docile Kit startled Sarah so much she stopped struggling.

"She's just a freak, is all," she explained. "Every now and then, she completely loses it for no reason. Her parents used to lock her up whenever it happened. That's it, I swear."

"Shit," Kit swore. "I so do not need this right now."

"Let me go," Sarah demanded. _"You're_ _hurting me."_

Kit glared at her and squeezed just a little bit harder, causing Sarah to whimper and lower her eyes.

"Remember it, then," she growled. "This isn't Wolf Lake, and nobody gives a shit about what my grandfather did half a century ago. All you need to remember is that I'm stronger than you, and if Brianna really is having some kind of 'episode,' then I'm the only thing standing between you and her. Got it? "

She dragged her to Elise and Brianna, and suggested in a sweeter tone that, because Sarah wasn't feeling quite up to it, they should probably cut the walk short. Elise slowly looked over the three of them, then agreed and lead them back to the café.

* * *

When they returned to the apartment, Brianna went into her room, ostensibly to take a nap. Elise poked around in the cupboards, then asked Kit to run downstairs to the café and get some hot chocolate. She obeyed immediately, grateful for anything that would get her away from the others for even a few minutes.

It had been unfair of her to blow up like that at Sarah, but she'd been frustrated that their first chance to scope out the island for possible ways to escape turned out to be futile, not to mention the strangeness she detected from Brianna. Sarah seemed so casual about whatever these "episodes" were that Brianna underwent, but Kit wasn't sure they could be dismissed so easily. Brianna's apprehension, so thick Kit could taste it, was confirmation enough of her own nose's insistence that something was seriously wrong.

Brianna always had a reputation for a level of aggression not normally seen in werewolf females. Granted, she didn't get into as many fights as, say, Presley, but Kit assumed it was because no one really wanted to be on the receiving end of her temper when she really snapped. Brianna's style tended more toward pinning someone down and digging her claws into their throat until they cried uncle, rather than the more traditional square-off-and-get-dirty method of conflict resolution. Then, once they had backed down, she went back to her normal, cheerfully snotty self, as if nothing had happened.

It seemed to work, though. Few people had the nerve to challenge Brianna, or gave up quickly once they realized just how strong she was. If it hadn't also been for the fact that Brianna was the only werewolf of her generation to have actually killed someone, Kit would have thought she was the safest Hill Kid to be around.

Kit remembered the incident clearly, because in addition to the fact that someone died, a rare occurrence in the Pack in spite of the generally violent nature of werewolves, the outcome hadn't been what anyone would have predicted. An older, male teenage werewolf decided it would be fun to pick on the newly flipped Brianna, who was barely fourteen at the time. Hers had been one of the earliest flips recorded, so it wasn't surprising to anyone that she adjusted to her newly Changed state so quickly. Werewolves who flipped young tended to have fewer preconceptions about what they were supposed to be, so had an easier time fitting into the Pack.

What was surprising was that, after repeatedly telling the male to leave her alone and him ignoring her, Brianna had him on the floor so fast no one was sure how she did it. She sat on his chest, claws hooked deeply enough into his throat that blood was streaming out of the wounds, and ordered him in a low growl to surrender. He went limp, and Brianna took that as acquiescence. She got up and started to walk away, but the male had been faking; he jumped up and went after her. She spun at the last moment and slammed him into the wall hard enough to damage it and crack his skull. He fell to the floor and stayed there, so Brianna walked away again. It was obvious to everyone that the petite female had the upper hand, but the idiot just wouldn't stay down. He went after Brianna one last time. He never had a chance. Brianna, as she explained later, had been waiting for him to try something, so, as soon as she sensed him, spun around, grabbed his head in both hands, and just _twisted._

Maybe she thought the momentum would flip the male onto his back in midair, and then she'd just let him drop so she could pin him down again. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing. Either way, she snapped his neck as easily as she would a pencil.

Then she just stared coldly at the body, turned around, and left it on the ground for the crows.

When questioned about the incident by Willard Cates, the Alpha at the time, she calmly detailed the chain of events. He asked her why she went so far as to actually kill the male, and she replied:

"I immobilized him twice already. He didn't want to listen. It was obvious that he wasn't right in the head, so there was nothing else I could do. He wasn't good for the Pack."

It was a chilling thing to hear from the lips of an angelic fourteen year old. However, there wasn't anything anyone could do about it; Brianna had acted in accordance with the Laws of the Pack, which stated that any member who exhibited signs of mental instability needed to be eliminated for the good of them all. Whether it was true or not in this case was beside the point; Brianna believed it, and therefore was exempt from punishment. That was the Law, and the Pack accepted the male's death because of it. What _was _hard for them to accept was a newly flipped female being strong enough to carry out such an execution.

After that, no one wanted to get on Brianna's bad side. And the thing was, in spite of that one incident, Brianna never really did anything else so differently than other werewolves her own age. She didn't have to; she had proved her point.

If that was what Brianna was capable of when she had control over herself, Kit didn't want to be within miles of her when she didn't.

Kit unlocked the door to the café and headed toward the back. Elise had said she kept the canisters of hot chocolate in a cabinet beneath the coffee maker. It took her a few minutes to figure out which coffee maker Elise referred to. Unlike Wolf Lake, it appeared that the Changer Islanders had fully latched onto the Seattle coffee cult; in addition to the old-fashioned drip machine, there was also a cappuccino and espresso maker, several French presses set out ready for use, and some copper monstrosity that she couldn't even begin to know how to use. It was only the presence of grinds at the bottom of the grill that told her coffee was involved somehow.

Kit selected a canister that was three-fourths empty; no sense in opening a fresh one so they both could go stale, especially since, like everything else she'd seen in the café so far, it wasn't your everyday Carnation Instant. Having only ever worked at the Lodge Diner, Kit was curious as to what another similar eatery might stock, and was surprised at the quality of everything. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with a gorgeous French-style range that Kit, in spite of not being able to so much as boil water, had drooled over in a cooking magazine not all that long ago. A bank of windows made up one wall, along which sat rows of clay pots growing more herbs than she'd even known existed.

"Oh, I have _got _to learn how to cook," she declared.

"Hello?" a male voice called out from the front, startling Kit so badly she dropped the hot chocolate. The cardboard canister split, spilling brown powder all over the floor.

"Just a minute!" she called out, looking for a dustpan and broom. Footsteps crossed the floor, and suddenly Kit knew exactly who it was: the male who tried to trap her. Cursing herself for not locking the door behind her, she moved closer to the center island. She faced the door and backed up until she felt the smooth wood against her fingers, then felt around until she located the block of knives. She quickly pulled one out and laid it on the countertop behind her, then let her hands hang by her sides, trying to look nonchalant.

She doubted it would be of any use if he used his power on her again, but at least she'd know she tried her best.

The male paused in the doorway and stared at her inscrutably. She stared right back and hoped she looked just as aloof. Damn, she'd forgotten how good-looking he was.

"What do you want?" she asked, impressed at how steady her voice sounded.

"I saw someone in here," he said. "The café was supposed to be closed . . ." He trailed off and looked around aimlessly.

"Elise asked me to get something for her," she explained. He nodded and swallowed. _Please, please, please leave._

"Now that I've got you here—" her eyes widened in alarm, and he rushed on— "I should explain why I . . . did what I did."

"That would be nice."

He took a step into the kitchen and Kit pressed herself harder against the island, taking comfort in the bite of the knife through her jeans. He stopped.

"You know why you're here, right?" he asked. Kit tried to remember exactly what it was Vivian Cates had said; she'd been too shocked at the time to pay much attention. Something about . . .

"We're supposed to shore up your bloodlines," she stated quietly.

"That's not quite it."

"I figured that was the official version. My cousin told me that Wolf Lake apparently owes you, and we're payment." He winced. "I take it I'm not wrong."

"It's not how I would have phrased it," he stated.

"And how would you have . . . phrased it?"

He signed and rubbed his jaw.

"Technically, Wolf Lake owes this Pack a great deal, but that's not the real reason you're here. It's . . . it's complicated. You didn't belong there. The land told Alrik to get you out."

"Who's Alrik?"

"The Alpha."

"So, the _land _told your Alpha to take us away because we didn't belong there?" Kit didn't bother to hide the disbelief in her voice. She'd never heard anything so cock-eyed in all her life.

"Pretty much. Look, I told you, it's complicated."

"Sounds like it. So, if we didn't belong there, where do we belong? Here? With you? I belong with you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Don't get yourself all worked up," he said, holding up a hand in a restraining gesture. It pissed her off even more, and must have shown, because he added, "I didn't mean it like that. Look, it's just . . . I'm sorry, okay? Alrik sent us to find out who, exactly, you were before contacting the Cates female. I didn't expect to react to you the way I did, and when I saw you again, I didn't mean to—"

"Trap me?" she finished for him. "Because that's what you were doing."

"I know. I was just—" He covered his face with his hands briefly, then dropped them and looked at her. Really looked at her, his blue eyes boring into hers, pinning her to where she stood. "I want you," he stated baldly. "I have never wanted anyone, or anything, as much as I want you. I know how that sounds, but I just don't know how else to explain myself. I overreacted when I saw you that second time. I know that it was wrong, but there was a part of me that just didn't see why I should wait for you to come to me. You felt—you _still _feel—right to me. It's like I've been looking for you my whole life and I didn't even know it until I saw you, and now, I just can't wait. _Shit," _he swore, and cross the room before she could even blink.

He wrapped her in his embrace, one arm around her waist, the other across the back of her shoulders, his hand buried in her hair, cradling her head as he kissed her hungrily. At the last second, Kit had the foresight to raise her arms so they weren't trapped by his, but the moment his lips touched hers, they weren't much use.

His tongue pushed between her lips to lap at her mouth, his own slanting widely, as if he wanted to consume her. Kit's head swam, and she was only vaguely aware of him picking her up and laying her on the island, then settling his weight on top of her. The clatter of kitchen tools falling on the floor registered distantly; his scent invaded her, his power wrapped itself around her and clung to her skin until she was drowning in his very being.

The male paused, then lifted his head.

"Okay," he whispered, and began to back off slowly. Kit's head cleared enough for her to realize that she was holding a knife to his groin. At some point, in spite of her disorientation, she must have grabbed it . . . the thought that part of her had been able to resist him filled her with strength, and she jabbed the knife harder into his jeans.

He backed off a little quicker, until he was upright and retreating across the room.

"I'm not going to apologize for that," he said, his eyes never leaving hers, "because I don't regret it. But I understand. I'm going."

He bumped up against the door jamb, felt behind him briefly, then turned and left.

Kit waited until she heard the outer door of the café close, then hopped off the island and ran to the kitchen entrance. Quickly scanning the front, she confirmed that he had indeed left, and then let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall.

That could have ended very badly. _Or not, _a traitorous voice whispered inside of her. She ignored it and tamped down on her hormones. The goal was to get out of here so she could live her own life without anyone else's say-so, not wind up bound to a complete stranger who, as he had repeatedly proven, had no trouble bending her to his will.

_Or not, _she thought again, and smiled this time. Consciously, she might have succumbed, but it appeared she had depths she'd hidden even from herself. She looked down at the knife in her hand.

Which wasn't a knife.

Kit barked out a laugh and clapped her hand over her mouth, fighting a sudden rise of hysteria.

She'd held him off with a vegetable peeler.

* * *

Alrik was in the kitchen when Gerik stormed into the house.

"I can't do this," he declared. "She's driving me crazy, and all I end up doing is scaring the shit out of her." He slumped down into a chair and hung his head in his hands.

Alrik's response was to toss chopped garlic into a skillet and poke at it with a spoon.

"She's been here two days, and already I can't stand the thought of going home and knowing she won't be there. Christ, I'm pathetic."

Alrik added onions to the skillet and stirred.

"She wants me, but at the same time, she doesn't want me, and I don't know just how much more of this I can take."

Alrik kept stirring.

"Can I get a beer?"

The spoon waggled in the direction of the refrigerator.

Gerik pulled open the fridge door and peered inside. Technically, as he wasn't yet twenty-one, Alrik shouldn't be drinking. But who was going to tell the Alpha no? Besides, Alrik's relationship with alcohol was legendary; entire cases of beer had been known to expire on him. Definitely _not_ your typical teenager.

"What the hell is this?" he wondered and pulled out a large brown bottle. The label read "Werewolf," and showed drawing of a pretty blond, half of her head a wolf.

"I thought it was amusing," Alrik replied, speaking for the first time. Gerik popped the cap and took a swig.

"Not bad," he observed.

"I thought that, too." Alrik added sausage to the skillet, a little bit of water, then dropped the lid on. "You want to tell me what this is all about now?"

Sighing, Gerik related the whole event, not sparing any detail. He was heartily ashamed of himself, but, at the same time, like he told Kit, he didn't regret his actions. He could still taste her, in spite of the beer, and, combined with her scent lingering on his clothes, it was enough to make him erect all over again.

She'd been the perfect combination of hard and soft, strong and fragile; sleek, iron muscles and slender bones encased in silky skin. Her mouth had been warm and wet, the perfect invitation to lose himself in her completely.

And that was the problem right there. He wanted too much from her too fast. Everything they had learned about the females they brought from Wolf Lake indicated that, in spite of their obvious talents, they hadn't been given their due. That did something to a strong werewolf, twisted their psyche and made them react in strange ways. The Young female had become quick to anger and quick to calm; that kind of emotional sling-shotting made her unpredictable. Kit had buried her strength deep down inside and erected a wall of weakness and vulnerability around herself that fogged one's ability to truly see her.

In different ways, the two females had been keeping their Pack at bay; the question was, why? Why did two powerful females who should have been an asset to their Pack feel the need to hide in plain sight?

"Her reaction to your mention of the land is interesting," Alrik observed as he began slicing vegetables for a salad. "It seems to me that your encounter could be deemed a success."

"I assaulted her," he snapped. "How is that a success?"

"You were overcome by your emotions," Alrik countered. "It happens. The important thing is that you stopped as soon as she expressed her displeasure." Gerik thought that was a vast understatement for pulling a knife on someone. He could still feel the point scraping his groin through his jeans. "I say success," Alrik continued, "because it answers some questions about the Wolf Lake Pack that I've had for some time now."

"Such as?" Gerik prompted when Alrik fell silent. Alrik paused in chopping a pepper, then continued.

"No one knows where they come from, or why they left in the first place," Alrik explained. "They've closed themselves off from the rest of the world, and yet their members clearly originate from different Packs throughout Europe. Why did those particular individuals band together? Forming a new Pack from strays isn't unusual, nor is migrating to find territory for that new Pack. What _is _unusual is why they migrated so far; there was plenty of territory available out East, and a newly formed Pack would need the support of its older, more established neighbors. Instead, they came out here into the wilderness, where there was no one but tribes of natives who would have been hostile to them, both for being white and for being able to change their shape.

"These aren't the questions that concern me, though. I'm sure their Keeper knows the answers, and if I pressed him, would tell me. No, what interests me is the fact that he seems to have kept information from his own Pack that, in other Packs, would have been deemed essential for our well-being, if only because it is so elementary.

"Vivian Cates's reaction at our meeting indicated she had no idea there was a difference between Alphas and other werewolves. For someone who has spent so much time at the top of the power structure of a Pack, her ignorance is appalling. But what if none of the others knew, either? If their entire relationship with us is based on the need for a true Alpha to be born among them, why don't they know about them?"

"Honestly, I don't know why they don't just import an Alpha," Gerik stated. "It's done all the time. There are always spare Alphas hanging around somewhere. Me, for example."

"That would require them to contact other Packs, and as I've already pointed out, except for us, they've cut themselves off from everyone," Alrik stated.

"And then there's the matter of the land," he continued. "Kit Morris's reaction suggests she's never heard of anyone speaking to the land before. Given that she didn't belong to the land she was born on, it isn't surprising that it wouldn't have spoken to her. But has she never learned about it from the Keeper, or even overheard others talking about it? There would be no reason to not bring it up in her presence, if only because everyone would assume she knew what they were talking about. That suggests that no one knows about speaking with the land, which is, quite frankly, unfathomable."

"All you've done is raise questions," Gerik observed. "You said you had answers."

"An answer," Alrik clarified and tossed the salad together. "Paranoia. The Wolf Lake Pack is so wrapped up in its own paranoia that it's unable to move, and is slowing choking itself to death. Things that are so vital to our survival as a species are what also marks us apart from humans, and they are not being taught in Wolf Lake. Individuals who would make the Pack stronger are being held back or thrown away, because they'd risk drawing humans' notice. For some reason, the land wants the Pack to do these things to itself. I just wished I could understand why."

"Do you think it's going to pull us down?"

Alrik shook his head.

"In spite of the seemingly unnatural things going on at Wolf Lake, it still _feels_ natural to me," he replied. "Perhaps it's just evolution at work, and for some reason, I've been allowed to take notice of it." He pulled two plates out of the cupboard and began dividing the food between them.

"Either way, they're in for a bumpy ride," Gerik stated as he rooted around in the fridge for salad dressing. He might not be leading a Pack, but he was still born an Alpha, and the land occasionally gave him insight it normally reserved for Alrik. "Willard Cates was as good a leader as could be expected, given the circumstances, but he still left his successor holding a bag of shit."

"But they will survive," Alrik assured him. "Some will die, but most will survive. And that's all the land really cares about. The Pack will survive."

* * *

The story related by Elise that Sarah doesn't pay any attention to is a real Salish creation myth, called "Moon the Transformer" in English. I added the bit about the werewolves, and changed "Transformer" to "Changer" for poetic reasons. It's a great story, in addition to being a great creation myth, and versions of it exist all over the Web.

There really is a beer/ale called "Werewolf." Honest. I don't drink beer, but a friend of mine tried it and liked it. Try it if you can find it, if only for the novelty.


	7. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Thankfully, it seemed the walk had been enough to allow the Pack to temporarily satisfy its curiosity, so Elise wasn't overwhelmed with customers who took forever to make up their minds about what to order, because they were there for an entirely different reason. Instead, she had her regulars, with a handful of individuals who had missed the females the day before and still hoped to catch a glimpse of them before the newness wore off.

"How are the little ones doing?" asked Ben.

"They're doing fine," Elise replied shortly. Ben was closer to her age and, as far as she was concerned, should know better than to sniff around females so young.

"And how are you doing with them?" Ben inquired further, ignoring her tone.

"Fine," she said, and topped off his cup of coffee.

In actuality, Elise had toyed with the idea of closing the café for a second day, then decided against it when she caught the females' moods that morning.

Brianna had come out of her room long enough to eat something, then retreated, claiming she was tired. Elise didn't have any trouble believing her; there had been something off about her scent all yesterday, and it had intensified this morning. She chalked it up to displacement syndrome, and decided to give it one more day before summoning the Pack's physician.

Kit had been a bag of nerves since the night before, and no wonder. When she'd taken so long to come back with the hot chocolate, Elise found her in the café's kitchen, hugging a vegetable peeler to her chest and shaking. It took one sniff for Elise to realize who had been there, and how her kitchen got to be such a mess.

She took the peeler from Kit's hand and escorted her back upstairs, erring on the side of caution on the off-chance that Gerik might still be around. She sat Kit at the table, and instructed Sarah to not let anyone else in until she returned. Then, she went back downstairs and cleaned up.

She placed a call to Alrik to complain about Gerik's behavior. It was so unlike him that it worried her, and she wanted Alrik to be forewarned in case it worsened and something had to be done. It didn't matter that Gerik was a well-liked and deeply respected member of the Pack, whereas Kit was still a relative stranger; the Law was the Law.

Alrik assured her that Gerik had informed him of what transpired himself, and currently was at the Alpha's house, keeping out of trouble. He promised Elise that Gerik would be staying away from the café for the time being, as he was just as disturbed by his own behavior.

Satisfied, Elise ended the call and fetched the hot chocolate, preparing herself for the next ordeal.

She had wanted to sit down with Sarah, the female who had avoided her the most, and get the measure of her. Spending one day cloistered and the majority of the next hanging back and ruffling everyone's feathers from a distance had put Elise on alert.

Niel had been reticent regarding Sarah Hollander. It had thrown Elise for a loop when he showed up with three Wolf Lake females instead of two, so she hadn't thought to drag more information out of him at the time. Now she wish she did; from everything Brianna and Kit said, it seemed Sarah wasn't much respected by them. At first, Elise thought it was just due to them being strong and her weak; those at their level frequently were short on patience for those so far beneath them.

But, as time went on, it became apparent that Sarah's reluctance to join them was less instinctive submission and more sullen resentment. Her behavior toward the werewolves who met them on their walk was downright rude, and Elise was starting to suspect the female's sense of importance far outstripped her actual talent. That her talent _did _outstripped her self-control was an additional worry; Sarah was heading for trouble, and she was either unable—or unwilling—to see it.

After she got Kit settled, Elise had cornered Sarah and politely, but in a tone indicating she would brook no dissent, demanded to know what had transpired during their walk. Sarah reluctantly divulged the progression of events, seemingly aware that somehow, she had done something wrong, but didn't understand how or at what point.

Elise wasn't entirely sure, either. Sarah hadn't lied to her; she'd be able to sniff that out faster than the younger female could think it up. In the end, it seemed to be just an unfortunate clashing of nerves all around. That Sarah hadn't been able to detect Brianna's agitation was troublesome, but it was something they could work on.

And that had been the ultimate reason for her conversation with Sarah—to see how much work the female needed before they let her roam about on her own. Nerves aside, Brianna and Kit seemed sharp enough to handle themselves and whatever situation they found themselves in. Kit in particular, if the events of the night before were to be any judge.

Sarah, on the other hand, appeared to need to be completely reeducated about what it meant to be a werewolf, with particular attention paid to what was required of her, personally. Elise wondered if she were going to be responsible for this, or if Alrik intended for someone else to shoulder the task. Though certainly experienced, she would prefer Niel handle it, and not just because he was the Pack's Keeper. He simply had more patience than most werewolves, so was best suited for showing them the error of their ways without resorting to pounding their heads against a wall. At least not right away.

Elise hoped Niel could straighten out Sarah quickly. She normally didn't mind hosting relocaters until they got their feet underneath them, but, even after such a short time, this lot was starting to get to her. They were too extreme in their abilities and personalities for her to get a handle on them. Hopefully, Kit and Brianna would be able to move on soon enough. That would leave Elise with just Sarah, a much more manageable situation.

Maybe she just was getting too old for this sort of thing. No matter what one thought of themselves, eventually, time caught up to them. Maybe it was just Nature's way of telling her to slow down.

Elise went into the kitchen to check up on a few things when she heard the crash from upstairs. Her head jerked up and she paused in her activities. There was another crash, followed by a dull thud. _Damnit, what now?_

She asked Ben to keep an eye on things, then hurried out the front door.

* * *

Ben sipped at his coffee, then reached for the sugar. He didn't know what it was about growing old, but he kept craving sweet things. For a while, he worried he was developing diabetes. The Pack physician tested him, and said he was fine; probably just changing taste buds. However, he promised to keep an eye on him.

Werewolves were stronger than humans and, if they were careful, lived a little bit longer on average. However, that didn't mean they weren't prone to many of the same diseases and complications. So, a prudent werewolf paid attention to his body. Ben had always been a prudent werewolf, and was hoping, in spite of the already long and fulfilling life that he'd led, he had a few more years in him.

Ideally, they would be with Elise. Werewolves, like their four-footed cousins, true wolves, were serial monogamists. Elise had lost her mate several years ago to lung cancer; Ben's died in a hunting accident when he was in his thirties. Either way, he decided enough time had gone by for the both of them to start living their lives again. He didn't think their mates would mind; it was, after all, their way. Perhaps even now, their mates were frolicking with one another in Heaven, waiting for Ben and Elise to join them.

Ben smiled to himself. There was a thought—Anna and Elise at the same time. Of course, he'd have to share with Jon, but that was okay. They'd shared plenty before both of them settled down.

His thoughts turned to the muffled crash he heard right before Elise ran out of the café. He hoped the young females would settle down enough to move out sooner rather than later. He had no doubt they were fine females who just need a little time to adjust, but they were putting a crimp in his plans. If nothing truly bad happened, he estimated having a few decades left, and he wanted to live every single minute of them.

*Ben, get the Alpha!* Elise's voice screeched across a mental thread, startling him enough that he dropped his cup, spilling coffee everywhere. Ignoring it, he jumped up and raced outside and around the building to the outside door leading to the apartment above the café. Halfway up the stairs, he paused as his brain reminded him of what Elise had asked him to do. Alrik first, then Elise.

He quickly shot off a telepathic message to his Alpha, then continued up the stairs. Emerging on the landing, Ben forced himself to stop and allow his senses to better evaluate the situation. His father always told him his propensity for rushing in first and asking questions later would get him killed, and he'd almost been right on a few occasions. Now was not the time to test the accuracy of that prediction again.

Deep, vicious snarls came from the kitchen. Something shattered on the floor. A female whimpered. The scent of blood was thick on the air. Two kinds of blood—one thin and salty, probably from a wound. The other was heavily laced with musk. Unusual energy whipped through the air. Wild Child. _Oh. _Everything made sense now. He mentally summoned the Pack's physician, as well, and suggested he bring along some heavy-duty painkillers, then stepped into the room.

A petite platinum blonde had wedged herself into the space between the refrigerator and the row of cabinets. She was growling at everyone, her eyes glowing, and Ben could see her sharp canines whenever she curled her lips. Elise was in the middle of the room, trying to calm her down as well as inch forward so she could yank her out of the space. Every time she took a step, the blonde's growl upped in volume, and she had to back off.

Another of the females, this one with shoulder-length reddish blonde hair, tried to help the third, a brunette, who lay curled up in a ball across the room from the first. The thinner blood smell came from her, and the thicker scent from the little blonde, as Ben had suspected. The brunette whimpered and cringed away from the helping hands of the strawberry blonde.

"Brianna, please, I just want to help you," Elise begged, and tried to reach for her. The blonde's snarl ripped through the air as she lashed out at Elise. Ben jumped forward and pulled Elise back. "I don't know what's wrong with her," she said, her voice cracking on unshed tears.

"Leave her be," Ben advised. "The Alpha and Michael will be here soon."

"Michael? Why's he coming?"

Ben briefly glanced at Elise in surprise before switching his attention back to the Wild Child.

"She's in pain," he explained. "Can't you smell it? It's her annual."

"Her annual?"

"Any other female, I'd call it a 'monthly,' but with this one . . ." he trailed off. Elise gaped at him.

"She has her _period?"_

Ben blinked at her; Elise normally wasn't this dense.

"Yeah," he said. "She's weak and bleeding, probably got some nasty cramps. She's feeling vulnerable and scared, which is causing her to overreact. Michael will give her something, and she'll be right as rain."

"Ben, this can't be cured with a few Midol," Elise growled, glaring at him.

"I figured," he retorted impatiently. "That's why I told him to bring the big guns. Be a little sympathetic to the poor thing; you remember what it was like, and you got it spaced out over twelve months. This is a full year's worth, all in one go. That'd be enough to drive anyone up a wall."

* * *

By the time Alrik arrived at the apartment, Michael, the Pack's physician, was already there and not faring any better than Elise had.

Brianna was still crammed into the small space, and Michael was crouched about four feet away from her. Two little white pills and a glass of water sat on the floor between them. Broken glass littered the floor; the table and chairs had been pushed against the wall to give everyone room to maneuver. That, combined with the rich scent of blood in the air, told him what was going on.

Ben and Elise were attempting to help Michael convince Brianna to come out of her hole and take the pills. Kit was on the floor with Sarah, trying to help her, and not succeeding.

When Alrik walked into the kitchen, everyone stopped to look at him. Even Sarah ignored her own misery long enough to peer at him cautiously through her hair.

Elise started to speak, but Alrik silenced her with a wave of his hand. First things first, they had to clear the room. Brianna was never going to come out with all those people there; right now, she was convinced they were threats, and felt safer where she was.

"Kit, take Sarah to her room," he ordered.

"I've been trying," the female retorted, clearly exhausted. She had a gash across her forehead that was already scabbed over, and her face was drawn.

Alrik forced himself to ignore the disrespect in her voice. Brianna's distress was contagious, and he had to fight against his own rising anxiety and the urge to lash out. He strode across the room, reached under Kit and dragged Sarah up by the back of her shirt.

"Quiet," he snapped and shook her like a puppy when she cried out. Still carrying her, he walked back out of the kitchen, picked the first bedroom he came to and tossed her in, not bothering to see where or how she landed. He shut the door behind him, returned to the kitchen, and gestured for everyone except Michael to get out. They obeyed, though stopped in the hallway near enough to keep watch.

Next, Alrik stepped back into the kitchen and motioned for Michael to back up. Michael scooted until he bumped into the cabinets. Alrik crouched down directly behind the little tableau of medicine, keeping Brianna in his line of sight, though ignoring her growls.

"What is this?" he asked, keeping his tone even, as he picked up one of the pills.

"Vicodin," Michael replied. "She's got cramps."

"I know what she has. She won't take them?"

"She accused me of trying to drug her."

"You are."

"She meant poison," Michael clarified testily. "She's in a great deal of pain, and it's confusing her. She thinks we want to hurt her."

"A natural assumption, given that she's technically wounded right now."

_"I know that. _She just needs to take the pills, and she'll be able to calm down enough to realize that we just want to help her."

Alrik sighed. Michael was correct, of course; he was just overreacting in response to a member of his Pack's fear.

"Is this it?" he asked in a gentler tone.

"There's a whole bottle on the counter," Michael answered. "I brought enough to last five days, if she needs it that long."

Alrik stood and backed up to the bottle of pills, glass crunching under his booted feet. He never took his gaze off Brianna, who unflinchingly returned his stare, her glazed eyes hostile. He picked up the bottle of pills and slipped it into his pocked, then returned to his position on the floor. The glass of water and two pills were placed out of the way, but close enough to be at hand.

*When I say so, give her the pills,* he ordered Michael. This needed to be done quickly, and to accomplish that, he needed to lull Brianna into a sense of security. He sat cross-legged in front of her and made himself relax. He let his head fall forward just a little bit, his eyes focusing on her feet rather than her face, his hands resting loosely in his lap.

After about ten minutes where no one moved so much as a muscle, her growls lessened in intensity. Alrik waited, covertly watching her from underneath his lashes. One foot slid forward a few inches as her leg muscles began to ease. Alrik waited. Her arms uncurled from her chest, one falling to her lap, the other slumping down next to her.

Alrik waited fifteen more minutes, then attacked.

Before she could react, he lunged at her, grabbed a leg and arm in each hand, and yanked her out of the space. Brianna tried to rake him with her nails, but he let go of her leg and grabbed her wrist. He spun her around in his embrace and pinned her arms to her sides. She writhed and kicked against him, guttural snarls ripping from her chest. Alrik dropped to the floor on his back and tangled her legs with his own.

"Now!" he yelled at Michael. The physician rushed forward, sweeping up the pills as he came. He pried Brianna's mouth open, and she snapped at him. "Ignore it!" Alrik commanded, and Michael crammed the pills down her throat, clamped her jaw shut, and then pinched her nostrils. Brianna tried to jerk her head out of his grasp, but with Alrik holding her so tightly, she didn't have enough room to move. Eventually, she swallowed, and Michael released her nose. Still holding her jaw shut, he shifted his hand to her throat, which he gently massaged, encouraging her to keep swallowing on the off-chance she might have faked taking the pills. After several minutes, he let her go and backed away.

"This is what we're going to do." Alrik paused as he readjusted his grip on the still-struggling Brianna. "Everyone needs to get out of the way _right now. _Ben, you hold her ankles while I stand up, and then let go. I'll carry her downstairs. My jeep is outside. Michael, I'm going to need you to drive the two of us back to my house."

"Do you think that's wise?" Elise asked. "She might get away from you."

"We have to risk it," Alrik told her. "She needs to get as far away from everyone as possible. She won't like being alone with me, but it's better than being surrounded by potential enemies."

Elise nodded and pulled Kit into a side room. Ben stepped forward and grabbed Brianna's ankles. She tried to kick him, but he held fast. Alrik unwrapped his legs from around hers and planted his feet against the floor. Ben moved up to her calves.

This was the trickiest part. Readjusting his grip so only one arm pinned her to his chest, Alrik braced the other against the floor and pushed himself upright. His back bent under the strain, but he quickly shifted his balance and managed to get standing. He reached out to grab her legs, and that was when everything went wrong.

Ben let go too soon, which was the opening Brianna must have been waiting for. She planted both feet firmly against his chest and shoved him to the floor. Faster than Alrik predicted, her legs swung up and back and nailed him right in the groin. Pain exploded throughout his body, and he let go of her and dropped. Michael reached out to grab her, but she raked him with her nails, ripping his arm open. She jumped over Ben, ran out into the hallway, and leapt over the railing. Alrik heard her land on the stairs, then the door to the outside slammed against the wall.

"Shit," he gasped, and rolled over onto his hands and knees. He took a deep, shuddering breath, willing himself not to vomit. When the pain ebbed from screaming to merely furious, he slowly climbed to his feet. Michael helped Ben off the floor, who reached out to steady himself against the wall.

"Well, at least we tried," Ben observed lightly. Alrik barked a laugh.

"This isn't funny," Michael said sourly. "She's completely out of control. Anyone who comes across her path will be seen as a threat and attacked."

"I doubt that," Alrik replied and started to pace around the room, trying to walk off the rest of the pain.

"What do you think happened to that one?" Michael asked, jerking his head toward the room where Alrik had tossed Sarah.

"I have no doubt she got in Brianna's way," Alrik stated, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it had more to do with her own ignorance than Brianna actively going after her. Best guess, Brianna will want to get as far away from people as possible, so she's not going to head into the middle of town. Anyone she does come across who didn't sense her coming first will get hurt, but she's not going to hang around to finish the job. She'll strike to disable them long enough to get away. Unless they do something stupid, it's unlikely any wound they receive will be fatal. Either way, I'll call you to let you know if anyone needs immediate attention and can't get to you themselves."

"What are you going to be doing?" Michael asked. Alrik stared at him blankly before answering.

"Tracking her," he stated. "You think I'm going to let a Wild Child that strong run amok on my island, doing God-knows-what kind of damage to herself and others?"

Shaking his head, he walked out.

* * *

Brianna ran as fast as her two feet would carry her, which wasn't all that fast. As soon as she put enough distance between herself and the town, she tried to flip, but the pain was so excruciating that she stopped. It was because of the other pain. She couldn't do anything while she was in all this pain. Couldn't flip, couldn't run, couldn't even think. She tripped over a root and took a header into the dirt. More pain shattered through her body, immobilizing her.

When she could move again, she slowly stood up. Her muscles screamed in agony, and she sobbed. Anyone who found her in this state would kill her immediately. She was broken and weak. A broken, weak female was a danger to the Pack. She needed to get away from everyone until the pain went away and she stopped bleeding.

Unbidden, a picture flashed in her mind of waves crashing against a cliff. Somehow, she knew there was a sliver of beach at the bottom of the cliffs. Just enough for her to walk along toward the northern end, where there was a cave. In her mind's eye, she could see the cave's black, wet walls covered in seaweed. As she traveled deeper into the cave, the seaweed disappeared, and the blackness faded into a dark grey.

A safe place, she thought. Somewhere no one would find her, because they wouldn't be able to reach her when the tide was in.

Brianna turned toward the shore.

* * *

Elise rubbed a cool salve into Ben's chest, and he rumbled happily as it began to numb his skin. The Wild Child kicked like a mule; he was going to be bruised for several days.

"She could have cracked your sternum," Elise grumbled in response to his smile.

"But she didn't," Ben replied. He was going to have to send the Wild Child a thank you card. If she hadn't hurt him, then he wouldn't get to experience the pleasure of Elise's hands on his skin.

"Old fool," Elise muttered, though she couldn't keep the affection entirely out of her voice. Ben's smile widened. In his youth, he would have pulled Elise into his lap and kissed her for that tone. Now, he had learned to be patient in courtship. Elise might be ministering to his wounds now, but later, once he'd healed, he'd try something a little more forward. And she would remember his naked chest and how he hadn't let himself go to fat, like so many other males his age.

The sound of heavy boots hitting the stairs prompted Ben to grab Elise's wrist and hold her still while he listened. Niel. He relaxed and let go.

Niel entered the kitchen and quickly scanned the room. Michael and Kit only glanced at him before resuming cleaning up the debris. Ben beamed up at him from his chair and waved, ignoring Niel shaking his head in disbelief. The young were always so dramatic, he thought blithely.

"Where is she?" Niel asked shortly.

"Who?" Elise asked as she washed salve off her hands.

"Sarah."

"Still in her room," Elise replied.

Niel disappeared, then came back dragging Sarah with him. He dropped her into a chair, then stood in the doorway, hands fisted on his hips.

"Alrik told me to take care of this while he looks for Brianna," he stated. "So, what happened?"

No one said anything at first, then Kit sighed and took a step forward.

"Brianna had been feeling poorly yesterday," she began. "I just kept out of her way. This morning, she went to get a cup of coffee, and Sarah was between her and the machine. I don't know what exactly happened. I think Sarah said something, and Brianna just snapped. She knocked her to the floor and started hitting her. I tried to pull her off Sarah, and she pushed me against the table. I cut my head," she touched the gash in her forehead, then continued. "The next thing I knew, Elise was here."

"She took a swipe at me and holed herself up there—" Elise pointed to the space between the fridge and the counter. "I called for Ben to send for Alrik, and he figured out what was happening, so sent word to Michael."

Ben took up the story at this point and quickly relayed what happened. Niel nodded, staring thoughtfully at the floor.

"I don't understand," Kit said when Ben finished. "She was just menstruating. What's the big deal?"

"Brianna's a Wild Child," Niel explained. "They only menstruate once a year. As a result, it lasts longer and is more stressful on them, physically and emotionally. If she'd let Elise know she was near her time, this could have been avoided."

"So why didn't she?" Elise wondered.

"Good question," Niel posited, and looked at Kit and Sarah in turn. Kit shrugged, confused. "Sarah?" he pressed. She hunched in on herself.

"Sarah, if you know something about this, you need to tell them," Kit commanded. When Sarah refused to say anything, Kit sighed. "Sarah told me that it was widely known in Wolf Lake that Brianna was different somehow, and that her parents would lock her up for losing her temper. Sarah called them 'episodes.' I didn't know about it before yesterday."

_Poor little thing,_ Ben thought to himself. No wonder she hadn't wanted to ask for help, if that's how she was treated by her own family. She probably thought she could handle it herself, and when she couldn't . . .

"And you didn't think to tell any of us this?" Niel growled. Kit flinched.

"She's had her own problems to deal with," Elise said, giving Niel a telling glance.

"Sarah?" Niel turned back to the other female. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"She's just a freak!" Sarah burst out angrily. "I just bumped into her, and she went crazy. She should be destroyed."

Ben was taken aback by the vehemence of her words. The female hadn't handled the situation very well, but who could blame her? It was a mistake, and one that Alrik would make sure never happened again, but it didn't mean she needed to be destroyed.

"A Wild Child is not a freak," Niel growled. "And if you said anything like that to her, when you knew better not to, then you got what you deserved."

"She's—"

"You will not interrupt me!" Niel roared, making them all jump. "However the Wolf Lake Pack treated all of you no longer matters. As long as you reside here on Changer Island, you will mind your place. And that means you will be obedient and courteous to anyone who outranks you. That includes Brianna Young."

* * *

When he reached the edge of town, Alrik stopped. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, extending his consciousness throughout the entire island. The land sang to him, and he caressed it with his power. He was aware of his Pack ceasing their activities and turning toward him, waiting for his direction. He reassured them that matters were well in hand, but cautioned them to stay where they were for the time being. He offered no explanation, and none asked for one. It was enough that their Alpha had made the request; they would obey without question.

His Pack taken care of, Alrik returned his attention to the task at hand. _Brianna, _he whispered to the land, letting the feel of her sink into the ground and rise up into the sky.

_Brianna, _the land sang back, and the feel of her ran back up his legs, into his torso, filling his arms, and finally his head. The land tugged at his feet, and he followed where it led.

To the cliffs on the eastern shore of the island. Down the narrow, steep path to the strip of beach. Across the sand, the waves drawing nearer to his feet. At the north end, a wide dark hole gaped in the side of the cliffs. _Brianna, _the land sang again, and let him go.

Alrik checked his watch, and mentally counted back the time. The Vicodin should have kicked by now. Brianna might still be conscious, but she wouldn't have enough energy to fight him. Alrik stepped into the cave.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Brianna slowly surfaced into consciousness and opened her eyes. They felt gritty, matching the rough, wooly feeling of her head. She knew she'd been asleep for a long time, but still felt exhausted. Her body was stiff and achy, as if she'd been running at top speed, only to trip and fall down a steep, rocky hill.

In other words, she felt completely normal for the middle of her period.

Hold that thought—there was something different.

It took a few minutes for her fogged brain to register what wasn't normal.

She wasn't in her room at home, in Wolf Lake, but she wouldn't be, would she? The problem was, she wasn't in her room at the apartment over the Fræc Café, either.

And there certainly shouldn't be a heavy, hairy arm draped over her waist.

The heavy, hairy arm curled around her and pulled her more firmly against what she could only assume was a heavy, hairy body that, from its scent, was male.

"You're awake," rumbled a deep voice, and then the male nuzzled her neck.

Acting wholly on instinct, her arm jerked backwards at a perfect angle to strike the male in the chest. She must have telegraphed her intention, though, because he caught her elbow and gripped her to his body a little more firmly with his other arm that she, unknowingly, had been laying on.

"Good morning to you, too," the male said.

"Please let me go," Brianna whispered. After a few frantic heartbeats, the male released her. She felt his body shift and roll off the mattress. She turned over and looked at her unexpected companion.

It was him! That male who she met in the street at Wolf Lake. Brianna and Kit had figured out the strange males from that day were some kind of scouting party from Changer Island, especially when one of them, Niel, as he'd introduced himself, ended up being one of the van drivers. But they hadn't seen the other two so far, and, in all the excitement, Brianna had forgotten about them.

And she was now stuck in a room god-knows-where with the egotistical one she'd made fun of with Sophia—had it only been two weeks ago?

Or was it _only _two weeks? How long had she been here?

"Five days," the male answered. She flinched, having not realized she'd spoken that question out loud, unhappy that she was so disoriented she didn't have better control over herself.

"Do you need some more Vicodin?" the male asked, leaning on the bed, a look of concern on his face. Brianna shook her head.

"No," she forced herself to say. "No Vicodin. I can't use it."

"Why not?" he asked, his expression sharpening. "You were in pain and it worked."

"What happened?" she demanded, her voice steadying. "You said I've been here for five days. What has happened to me in those five days?"

"You can't remember?"

"No. And _that's _why I can't use Vicodin," she explained shortly. "I can't use any opiates. They make me black out." He grimaced, then straightened and ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry about that," he apologized. "We didn't know. You were just in so much pain you were out of control and attacking anyone who came within striking distance."

Brianna grimaced herself. Yeah, that sounded about right to her. Getting your period once instead of twelve times a year only sounded nice until you had to deal with the cramps. Combine the pain with her already healthy paranoia and natural temper, and it was a recipe for disaster.

"Was anyone hurt?" she asked in a small voice. Her parents managed to hide the worst of her condition from the rest of Wolf Lake out of some latent sense of responsibility, though that didn't keep them from reminding her at every turn that if they didn't, she'd be put down. In a new Pack, with no one to have her back, what would they do? And did they even realize what she was?

The male shook his head in response to her question.

"Not really," he said. "A few scratches. Nothing that didn't heal quick enough. Well, then there's Sarah," he amended. "Apparently you gave her one hell of a beating. She had a lot of bruises and some cracked ribs that took a little longer to heal."

Brianna winced. Sarah was a pill, but she couldn't imagine the other female doing anything to justify that kind of a beating.

"And then there's your ankle," the male continued, his lips curving into a smirk. "Pretty nasty sprain you had there, but it's better now." He sobered. "So you can't take Vicodin. Is there anything else that works? Do you need anything right now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you in pain?" he clarified. She took a moment to survey her body, then shook her head.

That must have cleared it, because suddenly events caught up with her.

"Wait just a minute, you said I've been here five days. What the hell? Why? What have you been doing?"

"Taking care of you," he said.

"Everything?" she whispered, reddening at the implications.

"Everything," he confirmed. "Somebody needed to do it, and I was the only one strong enough to handle you on my own. Any more people than just me, and you would have overreacted. Again."

"You? Why you? Who _are _you?"

He grinned. Brianna didn't like that grin. It didn't bode well for her.

"I'm Alrik," he said. "Your Alpha."

Her embarrassment was replaced by fear, and she could feel the blood drain from her face. She had been at the mercy of the Changer Island Alpha for five whole days, with no memory of those days. He held her life in his hands, and now that he knew what she was . . . her stomach roiled.

Alrik yanked her upright and shoved her head between her knees, commanding her to breath.

"It's okay. You're going to be fine," he consoled her, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "It was just a screw-up. No one got permanently hurt. Everyone's fine. It's going to be okay."

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and struggled to calm her stomach down.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You aren't stupid! Normal females don't freak out like that when they get their period! You know what I am. What are you going to do to me?"

"Nothing," he said, pulling back in confusion.

"I almost kill Sarah for no reason, and you're not going to do anything?" Brianna stared at him, disbelief written all over her face. "If you can't control yourself, you're a danger to the Pack. If you can't learn control—and I've never been able to figure out how to stop myself when this happens—then you're killed. That's the Law."

"You're a Wild Child," he said. "Yes, you should have told us you were near your time, but, considering your old Pack, I can understand why you didn't. That needs to be taken into account, along with the fact that while you may have 'almost' killed Sarah, it wasn't 'for no reason.' From what I understand, she provoked you, even though she knew better."

"What did she do?" Brianna asked cautiously.

"She claims she just bumped into you," Alrik told her. "Maybe she did, and under normal circumstances, I would agree that isn't provocation enough for attacking her. However, everyone could tell that you weren't feeling well, and that it was making you edgy. They chose to stay out of your way. Sarah didn't, and she paid the price for it."

"Sarah's weak. She may not have realized—"

"Kit said she told her," Alrik interrupted. "She knew. Look, it's obvious to me that it's Sarah who's the problem, not you. She's been irritating everyone, and is going to need to do some serious personal work before we let her run around loose." He got up off the bed again and headed toward the bedroom door. "Why don't you get cleaned up and come downstairs. It's obvious we have a lot to talk about."

He shut the door behind him, leaving Brianna alone. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm. This whole situation was straight out of the Twilight Zone. Ever since her Change, it had been hammered into her that she was different, and if anyone really knew the extent of those differences, there would be no choice but to kill her. It was the whole reason why her parents treated her the way they did; something about her 'condition', as they referred to it, indicated that their bloodline wasn't as pure as they thought. That they were defective, and she had to keep it secret.

And now the worst had happened; everyone knew what she was. By rights, they should have destroyed her immediately. Instead, they not only let her live, they took care of her. And it didn't seem like they were going to do anything else to her. It was somehow okay in their minds for her to have this strangeness inside herself that caused her to go off like a bottle rocket whenever someone looked at her cross-eyed.

Brianna tossed the sheets back and got out of bed. She wavered for a moment before she got her balance, then, carefully, walked toward the bedroom door. She paused at the threshold of the room, and stuck her head out into the hallway. The sound and smell of bacon frying hinted that someone was in the kitchen; probably Alrik, as she couldn't sense anyone else in the house.

An open door revealed a bathroom. She quickly crossed the hall and shut the door behind her. So far, so good.

Brianna stripped out of the tee-shirt and underwear she'd been dressed in and hopped in the shower. She scrubbed herself all over with soap, carefully inspecting her body for any sign that she may have been messed with. She appeared, and felt, fine. Well, except for the thin trail of blood snaking down the drain. She forced herself to ignore the fact that Alrik must have cleaned her up, changed her pads, disposed of said pads—yes, it was the Twenty-First Century, and males were supposed to Get Over It when it came to female body functions, but there was still something private about it.

_Or maybe it's just me, _Brianna thought bitterly. She wasn't normal; what happened to her wasn't normal. Ergo, it needed to be kept out of sight so everyone else felt comfortable around her.

But even still . . . she scrubbed harder.

The shower's calming impact was lessened when she realized she didn't have any clean clothes with her. Well, Alrik had brought her here, he could pony up something from his wardrobe. She wrapped a towel around herself and dashed back to the bedroom.

Where she found a duffel bag filled with her clothes. _He just thinks of everything, doesn't he? _Brianna pulled a set of fresh clothing and—thank God—clean underwear from the duffel. She went back to the bathroom and changed into her clothes, applied a fresh pad from the box she found under the sink—no tampons, thank God again. If Alrik had inserted a tampon in her, she wasn't sure what she would have done. Probably tried to beat him to death with a toilet brush while sobbing hysterically. There were limits to how much she was willing to be in denial about.

Finally, she couldn't avoid it anymore, and looked at herself in the mirror. _Jesus._ _I look like hammered shit._ Her face was thinner than it should be, the bones of her jaw and cheeks standing out sharply, her eyes sunken and ringed with dark circles. Her skin was pale, her eyes dull. A quick, though closer, inspection of her body revealed that she had indeed lost a lot of weight very quickly. She always dropped a few pounds during her period, but nothing like this! Just how bad had it been?

Well, there was only one person who could tell her that. Brianna steeled herself and headed downstairs to find out just what, exactly, had transpired over the past five days.

* * *

"What's a Wild Child?"

Alrik turned around. Brianna stood just inside the kitchen, hands crossed across her chest defensively. Of all the questions he expected her to have, that hadn't been one of them. How could she not know about her own nature?

"A Wild Child is you," he replied.

"So I gathered," she stated dryly. "But no one has ever called me that before. What does it mean?"

Part of Alrik was interested in her question in a detached sort of way. The rest of him, the part that was very much engaged in the here and now, was appalled. Didn't they tell her _anything?_ Paranoia wasn't enough to justify leaving one of their own so woefully uneducated about herself. _Especially _when that self was a Wild Child. Just what the hell was going on with Wolf Lake?

He was starting to realize that her reaction this morning wasn't as out of proportion as he'd originally thought. He also started to realize that they may have been very lucky that things hadn't gotten worse five days ago.

Alrik poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the counter, then returned to the stove. She crossed the room, picked the mug up and took a sip, ignoring the sugar and milk he'd set out. Her pleasure was evident.

When she had relaxed a bit more, he spoke again.

"Why don't you tell me what you know about yourself, and I'll fill in the spaces and clarify anything that has confused you up to this point."

Brianna looked uncomfortable for a moment, then shrugged.

"When I was twelve, I got my first period," she began. "I didn't get it again for months, and we all just thought it was normal irregularity. Then I did get it again. And then, _again, _it didn't come back for months. When I was fourteen, I flipped for the first time about two months after my third period—"

"Wait, you didn't Change until _after _this irregularity appeared?" Alrik interrupted. Brianna nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said. "Most females don't Change until after they start menstruating. Doesn't that happen here?"

"It does," he confirmed. "But the fact that you were already exhibiting normal Wild Child function before actually Changing is . . . unusual."

"Great. So not only am I freak to most werewolves, I'm even a freak to the other freaks."

"It doesn't mean you're a freak," he reassured her. "There's a lot we don't know about Wild Children. Go on."

"So, anyway, the Change was supposed to straighten my body out, right? Well, when I still didn't get my period for another ten months, my parents took me to the doctor. He examined me, and said that I was different. A throwback, or something, and because of it, I couldn't have children."

Brianna stared into her cup of coffee, her shoulders slumped. Alrik's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Why can't you have children?" he asked. Her head popped up and she just stared at him. "What?"

"I can't get pregnant," she stated. "My cycle's too infrequent. That's why."

"Do you not undergo estrus?" he asked. "Heat," he elaborated in response to her expression. "Temperature goes up, sex organs swell. You have an uncontrollable urge to have sex. Heat, like dogs, cats, horses."

Brianna blinked rapidly, stunned. He had a feeling no one had ever really talked about these things with her, and felt slightly embarrassed that it had to be him.

"Um . . . well, yeah,"she finally managed to say. "That's a part of it, but . . . I never . . . Other females don't go into heat and they can have children, so I don't see why . . ."

"Other females do undergo estrus," he said. "It's just spread out over the year. You get it all at once, so it's more dramatic. So, if you're going into heat, it's likely you _can _reproduce."

"But the doctor said. . ." Brianna trailed off, obviously confused. She dropped into a chair and massaged her temples. Sensing her pain, in spite of her declarations otherwise, Alrik reached into a cabinet over the sink and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, which he set in front of her.

"As I said earlier, I don't know exactly what your situation was with the Wolf Lake Pack," he stated, and returned his attention to fixing their breakfast. "However, from everything that I've heard, they don't like Wild Children. That's not an uncommon reaction in many Packs; they're not easy to deal with, though if you actually try, the benefits far outweigh anything else.

"Anyway, my guess is, like other Packs with the same opinion, Wolf Lake doesn't want Wild Children to keep cropping up in their bloodlines, so they have a standing order that forbids them from reproducing. That is probably what the doctor meant when he said you couldn't have children; he meant you wouldn't be allowed to reproduce, not that you weren't biologically viable to. I'm surprised—grateful, but surprised—that they didn't sterilize you outright to prevent any mistakes from happening. That's usually the case."

Brianna shook her head slowly.

"No, I don't remember him saying anything like that," she confirmed. "And I've never had surgery, so they didn't just do it without telling me."

"Well, we don't think that way, so you don't need to worry about it," Alrik assured her. "And, you can have as many children as you want." It was painfully obvious that they hadn't told her a damn thing, so Alrik went on.

"Classic Wild Children are half-breeds, only they're products of unions between werewolves and wolves, rather than humans," he explained. "In the majority of known cases, a male werewolf chooses to live as a wolf. He joins a true wolf pack, and reproduces with a true wolf female. Their offspring tend to remain as wolves, but every once in a while, one Changes, and comes into contact with the outside world.

"Humans call them 'Feral Children,' and think they're just humans who went . . . well, feral. There have been quite a few human children found wandering the woods by themselves. The ones who are werewolves tend not to live very long among humans, though. They don't have the ability to acclimatize, and just . . . die. The ones found by other werewolves fare better; werewolves can communicate with them at their own level to a certain extent, which makes it easier for the Wild Child to understand what is happening to them.

"It doesn't guarantee that they will be able to fully integrate, however, which is why many Packs don't want them. Even though most Packs stay removed from human society, it's not possible to avoid it entirely. Wild Children have a history of drawing attention to themselves, which can make them a danger to their Pack. However, other Packs are more sympathetic, and work a little bit harder to help Wild Children adjust, or simply keep them out of sight of humans."

"But wait," Brianna interrupted. "I can't be a Wild Child. That would mean that my mom did it with a wolf. Yeah, there's me, but I have a twin sister, and she's not like me at all. Wouldn't she be one, too? Or are we not really twins?"

"I'm sure you are twins. The term is also used to describe descendents of Wild Children who exhibit similar behavior," Alrik explained "I imagine that's what your doctor meant when he said you were a throwback. You are—a throwback to your true wolf ancestor. That's why your menstrual cycle is the way it is; wolves only go into heat once a year, so you do, too. The human part of you causes the bloody menstruation, though.

"But that's not the only thing you might have inherited," Alrik stated, eying Brianna closely. "Other wolf-like behavior observed in Wild Children includes heightened aggression, their reactions seeming out of proportion to the situation at hand. At the same time, though, they rarely kill, preferring to hold down the person they're attacking until they give in, at which point they act like nothing happened at all." A twitch in her face told him he was on target with that one. "They're not particularly prone to grudges, though they can develop if the same individual or individuals keep challenging them, or behaving in a way they think is inappropriate. Wild Children are notoriously judgmental that way." Twitch. "They want to be outside as often as possible, frequently sneaking out at night to sleep, or disappearing for days and returning smelling entirely of the wild." Brianna bit her lip.

"Any of this sound familiar?" Alrik asked, cheerfully feigning ignorance. She glared at him. "They also have been known to dislike clothing, preferring to mimic their wolf ancestors and run around in nothing but their skin."

"Oh now _that _is unfair!" Brianna exploded. "I stopped doing that when I was six, and anyway lots of kids do that." Alrik chuckled. "Jerk," she fumed, and downed the rest of her coffee.

"I never said they didn't," he said. "Wild Children just do it more often."

"Are you going to keep poking at that food, or do we actually get to eat it?" she sniped at him.

"In a little bit," he replied. "The potatoes aren't finished." He sobered.

"Wild Children," Alrik continued, "also have a difficult time relating to their fellow Pack members. Werewolves may be better equipped to deal with them than humans, but it's far from perfect. Their brains seem to function the same way, but they arrive at conclusions using a different path of logic. Most of the time, it doesn't matter, but occasionally it does. Take, for instance, power. Some have described Wild Children's power as primitive, but it's not; it's just different. More . . . involved, yet it seems simpler at the same time. No one has ever been able to study it much, so I can't explain it better than that.

"And then there's the fact that Wild Children are naturally resistant to a lot of other werewolves' abilities," he said, looking at her steadily. "When we first met, you didn't seem bothered by the power I was unleashing all over Wolf Lake. You certainly weren't all that impressed by me, whereas the rest of the Pack were pretty unnerved."

"You're not as much hot shit as you think you are," Brianna informed him, returning his gaze steadily.

"Actually I am," Alrik replied without a hint of arrogance. "And that's the point I'm trying to make. You may have felt my power—don't deny it. I know you did—but you didn't feel the instinctive need to submit to me, or challenge me, or run away. I bet you have had similar reactions to other werewolves in Wolf Lake. You probably have to force yourself to submit to the ones you knew are stronger than you, because it doesn't come naturally.

"And when dealing with those weaker than you, you probably just ignore them, or, if you like them personally, treat them as your equal. But, when they step out of line, you're harder on them than other werewolves would be. That, too, is similar to the way true wolves discipline each other. Werewolves, on the other hand, would call it extreme, and interpret your behavior as a sign of instability. And, though I acknowledge that it is natural for you, I want you to try harder to reign it in. You're a lot stronger than most of the werewolves here, and having everyone accept what you are will only buy you so much slack. If people start to think you're a bully, but you think what you're doing is justified, well . . ." He spread his hands, his gesture indicating his inability to prevent the chaos that would result from such confusion.

Brianna's shoulders drooped even more. "They're not thinking that already, are they? Because of Sarah?" Alrik sighed.

"We've been over that," he said. "Whether she meant to or not, she'd been pushing you too much for you to let it go that last time. Yes, if you hadn't been in so much pain, you probably wouldn't have done anything to her. But you did, and it doesn't change the fact that her own willful ignorance got her into trouble. Perhaps she'll learn from the experience and modify her behavior from here on out."

"She's not that bad, is she?" Brianna ventured. "Just because I flipped out on her—"

"Brianna, she's _bad," _Alrik declared firmly. "When I said she's been irritating everybody, I meant _everybody. _She's the one who's out of control. The only reason she hasn't caused any real trouble is because she's not strong enough to. But that doesn't mean she won't in the future. She will be taken in hand and an attempt to reeducate her will be made. However, if it doesn't stick, well, I don't know what else can be done."

"And that's it? She'll be destroyed?"

"A Pack is only as strong as its weakest member. That doesn't necessarily refer to raw power; most of the time, it refers to intelligence. For all I know, Sarah might be book-smart, but when it comes to common sense, she's pretty dim."

* * *

Alrik waited until Brianna was half-way through her food before dropping the bomb on her.

The real one, as it turned out.

The stuff about Wild Children and Sarah had been rattling enough, but it was nothing compared to this.

"You want me to what?" she exclaimed, dropping her fork. They were seated across from one another at a small table tucked into the alcove of the kitchen. Alrik, the annoying bastard, wiped his mouth with his napkin, seemingly unbothered by her outburst.

"You're going to stay here for the time being," he repeated. "Just until you get settled among the Pack."

"We don't even know each other, and now you want me to move in with you?"

"We've managed to survive five days together, which is more than many of our kind can boast."

"Only because I was unconscious for most of it," she shot back. "And by the way, what exactly happened during those five days?"

"You were incapacitated with pain, so I took care of you," he said, and forked more eggs into his mouth.

"I woke up in bed with you," Brianna pointed out. "You were nuzzling my ear. How is that taking care of me?" He shrugged and swallowed.

"Normal, considering how . . . affectionate you were toward me," he told her.

"Affectionate?" she sputtered. Alrik put down his own fork.

"I was taking care of you," he repeated. "After your initial violent reaction toward me, once you figured out I didn't mean you any harm, you became affectionate. You wanted to ensure that I continued to mean you no harm. It's an entirely natural reaction from a weakened pack member toward their Alpha."

"I thought you said I was immune to your power."

"I said 'resistant,' not immune," he clarified. "And I wasn't doing anything to you at the time, except giving you what you wanted, which was comfort and reassurance of your safety. I tried putting you in your own room, but you didn't stay there. You kept crawling into bed with me. I didn't mind," he added when her eyes bugged out of their sockets.

"I'll bet you didn't," she snapped.

"I may be an Alpha, but that doesn't mean I'm made of stone," he smiled.

Brianna decided her best course of action at this point was simply to ignore him. Obviously, he was lying solely for the purpose of teasing her. Except he didn't smell like he was lying. Which suggested he might be telling the truth.

He couldn't be, of course. Brianna simply didn't do things like that. Her kind were more promiscuous compared to, say, humans, but Brianna had been a little more reserved than most. Sure, she enjoyed physical intimacy, but she wasn't so gung-ho to indulge in it at every little opportunity. So, it made no sense that she would crawl all over a complete stranger just because he may or may not have the final say in whether or not she lived.

They ate in relatively companionable silence for a good twenty minutes before Brianna felt secure enough to return to their original topic of discussion.

"I still don't see why I need to move in with you," she stated. "You said yourself that this Pack isn't afraid of Wild Children. So, why can't I just stay with Kit and Sarah?"

"Several reasons," Alrik replied. "First, the Pack may be comfortable with the idea of Wild Children, but you're the first one we've ever met. There are bound to be a few mistakes made before we get used to you, rather than just the idea of you. Second, you've never been around werewolves from a Pack different than the one you born into. Every Pack is a little different, but Wolf Lake even more so. You need some time to adjust to us. Again, there are bound to be a few mistakes made. If you live with me, the Alpha, you can take your cues from me, and that will speed your adjustment. Also, when such mistakes occur, it's more likely I'll be on hand to nip them in the bud."

Brianna privately conceded that these were all sound reasons, but that didn't mean she had to like them.

"Third, and final, there's the fact that Elise can't handle you," Alrik said. Brianna winced. She should have expected that. "She's not angry at you," Alrik reassured her. "She understands how these things can happen even when the werewolves involved aren't Wild Children. However, she has her hands full with Sarah and Kit, and adding you to the mix is just too much for her."

"What's wrong with Kit?" Brianna asked.

For the first time since they started talking, Alrik hesitated.

"Kit is fine," he said eventually. "It's just that she's attracted some attention that is proving difficult. It's not her fault, but until the situation is resolved to everyone's satisfaction, it's best that she stay with someone who has enough standing to protect her."

"So why can't she stay here?" Brianna wondered. It certainly would make it easier to plan their escape if they were under the same roof.

That is, if Kit still wanted to escape. A lot could have happened in five days to make her change her mind.

"No, that would be worse," Alrik said. "The attention I mentioned spends a lot of time here."

Damn. She needed to talk to Kit. She'd been out of the loop for way too long.

"Well, can I at least go see her at some point?"

"Sure. You're not being imprisoned here. You're just living here."

"Today?"

"Probably not a good idea," Alrik said. "Even though you're obviously not incapacitated by pain, you haven't fully recovered. Others might not be able to stop themselves from challenging you, especially since, with the induction of three new members, the Pack hierarchy is going to change."

Brianna slumped in her chair. Damn, again. He was right. At Wolf Lake, she never left the house until she stopped bleeding. Mentally counting, she estimated another three days, maybe four, before it was safe to be around other werewolves. That meant four more days before she could see Kit without Alrik hovering over her.

"So, how am I going to get my stuff?" she asked. "The clothes I have here are fine, but there are other things I want."

A knock sounded at the front door.

"There it is," he told her. The front door opened, and he called out, "third door on the right, guys. Just take it on up."


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ten days after what everyone on the island had come to refer to as "the Incident," Brianna walked into the Fræc Café. Kit was enormously glad to see her.

"Quick, into the kitchen," she ordered the younger female. Brianna obliged, and Kit pushed her toward the range. "Elise is out running errands, and she must have forgotten that I can't cook, and it's just been a complete disaster!"

"Uh, shouldn't we talk—"

"Later!" Kit shoved a fistful of orders at her. "If these people don't get their food, there's going to be a riot."

Brianna wisely decided not to argue, and started sorting through the orders.

"Wait, this is for . . . kippess?" she squinted as she tried to read Kit's hasty scrawl.

"Kippers. Some kind of fish," she explained.

"I don't know how to make kippers," Brianna protested. Kit found a cookbook and thrust it at her.

"Learn," she said, and hurried back out to the front.

After the Incident occurred and Brianna was swept off to the Alpha's house, Kit had been left with nothing to do. Sarah was now undergoing tutelage by Niel, who turned out to be the Changer Island Keeper, and was gone for hours at a time. She hadn't been much in the way of company, but she was better than nothing, and since Elise had gone back to work, Kit was desperately bored. She volunteered to help Elise in the café, and Elise agreed. Kit's history as a waitress meant she didn't need to be trained, and the chance to interact with the Pack would be beneficial.

After one day, Kit wondered how Elise could have done everything by herself. She supposed that the customers were used to having to wait a little longer for their food, but after several days of having both females at their beck and call, they quickly adjusted their expectations.

This morning, Elise thought it would be safe to leave Kit by herself while she took care of the business side of the café. Before, she just closed for a morning.

Kit dashed back to the kitchen to see if Brianna had filled any of the orders.

"Not yet," Brianna said. "A few of these are for sandwiches. Can you at least slap a sandwich together?"

Kit figured she could manage that, provided no one wanted one with bacon on it. Brianna came to the rescue and handed her a tray of hot, greasy bacon fresh off the grill. Kit assembled the orders procession-line style, dumped a handful of chips on each plate, then added a pickle. She balanced the plates across her arms and headed back out to the front.

"Hey, I was here first," a male grumbled as she served another werewolf.

"Coming," Kit promised, and rushed into the back.

Over the next hour, she and Brianna managed to get caught up. After two, the crowd thinned, and they had a few minutes to relax.

"If you're going to keep working here, you need to learn how to cook," Brianna told her she wiped the sweat off her brow with a rag. "I don't mind helping out, but it's ridiculous that it got so bad."

Kit just nodded.

"Where's Sarah?" Brianna wondered. "Why didn't you make her help?"

"She's at lessons," Kit explained.

"How's that going for her?"

Kit shrugged. "It's only been a few days. She's not happy about it, and hasn't really spoken to either Elise or me. Elise says to just leave her alone for now, and thinks she'll get over it in time."

"It has to be embarrassing to be eighteen and told you don't know anything about being a werewolf," Brianna sympathized.

"Elise let her call her parents yesterday," Kit reported. "Ever since, she's been going on and on about being a Hollander, and how that means she shouldn't have to do what I, a Morris, tells her to." Brianna rolled her eyes. "I think her parents have been puffing her up."

"Then they're idiots," Brianna said. "Sarah's not strong enough to throw her weight around, and no one outside Wolf Lake gives a damn about the Hollanders and the Morrises. The sooner she figures that out, the better."

"I think part of Elise's errands this morning were to talk to Niel about it," suggested Kit. "It's a shitty thing to do, but I can't think of any solution other than to cut her off completely from her family."

Brianna twiddled with her hair, picking at split ends. "Alrik said if Sarah doesn't shape up, she's done for," she informed Kit quietly. "He said that even though she's not strong enough to directly screw up a Pack, her behavior could _indirectly _cause a lot of trouble."

Werewolves understood the difference between direct and indirect action, but didn't make a distinction when it came to handing out punishment. Werewolves were into personal responsibility in a big way.

"You know, she doesn't have anything except her clothes and a few personal items," Kit told her. "A few days ago, Elise took me to the credit union so I could transfer my money. Sarah went with us, but only because Elise didn't want to leave her alone. Everything she's ever had, her parents gave to her. She's never had a job, or had to worry about taking care of herself. I think that's part of why she's being so difficult."

"That's no excuse," Brianna replied. "I've never had a job."

"You get paid to be a writer. That's a job," she pointed out. "Unless they've said you can't do that anymore, you're still better off than she is. You can support yourself. She can't."

"Still no excuse. There's lots of things she could be doing. And," Brianna lowered her voice to a sub-whisper, hoping the sounds of the kitchen machinery was enough to block werewolf hearing. "If we take her with us when we go, she's going to have to work. Our savings aren't going to last forever, and they'll go faster if she's dead weight."

Brianna looked like she wanted to continue the discussion of their escape, but the door chimed, and Kit shushed her as she went out to the front.

Escape had been on her mind continually since the Incident, and she had made a little progress toward formulating a workable plan. Lulling Elise into a sense of security so Kit could wander around the island by herself was the first step, and that wasn't yet complete. She didn't think the older female was suspicious of her; rather, she was concerned about what could happen to Kit if she ran into Gerik again. She hadn't seen the male since the night before the Incident, and was grateful for it. However, that just meant he was staying away from the café; for all she knew, he was waiting to corner her somewhere else on the island, where there weren't so many vegetable peelers on hand to fend him off.

And then there was Sarah. She, and obviously Brianna, was still committed to bringing the other female with them when they went, and that was going to be difficult. She was watched all the time now, constantly scrutinized for the tiniest infraction. After what Brianna told her, that made even more sense. She might be a thorn in their sides, but leaving her to almost-certain death wasn't an option. She was Pack, and as her betters, it was Kit and Brianna's duty to see to her safety.

Last, there was the hurdle of Brianna living with the Alpha now. Kit hadn't had much contact with him, but his reputation suggested he'd be a hard one to fool. This Pack seemed to almost revere their Alpha, as if he were some kind of saint, rather than just their leader. Disobedience to him might be interpreted as akin to sacrilege, and that worried Kit more than potentially breaking some treaty between Changer Island and Wolf Lake.

This place was so strange. It seemed like the rules were the same, and then they played out so differently than what she was used to.

Kit got the new customer settled with water, coffee and a menu, then took his order back to the kitchen. Brianna squinted at it, then turned to the cookbook to learn how to fill it.

*Can you do that thing again so we can talk about this?* Kit mentally asked her on a high resonating thread. Brianna nodded, and assembled what she needed to make the order.

When she made the connection, Kit related her concerns and frustrations about not being able to act quicker on their desire to escape.

*We're going to have to hold tight here for awhile,* Brianna said. *There's just no way around it. We have to convince everyone that we're fitting in, and that's going to take a long time. You should keep working here. Make it look like you're putting down roots, that sort of thing.*

Kit thought this sounded sensible. The advantage of plotting with a writer, it seemed, was that the writer could think of all the angles. She just hoped Brianna didn't turn out to be Tom Sawyer-creative and expect them to dig a tunnel down to the ferry instead of using the path.

*What are you going to do?* she asked.

*I talked to my agent a few days ago to let him know I had 'moved in with my cousin,'* she replied. *He guessed that things between me and my parents weren't great, though he didn't know why. So, he's not all that surprised. He has to get some paperwork together and talk to the publisher. Since I'm turning eighteen in a few months, he thinks they'll be open to holding off until then before pushing anything through, when they'll only have to deal with me. That'll help when we go. I won't have to worry about going through this again and having to wrest control from Alrik after doing it so soon from my parents.*

*Would the Alpha do that to you?* Kit wondered.

*He offered to sign as my guardian for anything I needed one for,* Brianna replied. *I don't think he meant it maliciously, though. He's been on his own for years now, so doesn't see why a teenager can't take care of themselves. Still, he also knows enough about human law to realize that what he thinks doesn't mean a damn thing.* Brianna snorted. *It's funny, you know? Him being my legal guardian. He's only a little over a year older than me.*

*Really? I knew he was young, but that young? I can't imagine a Pack obeying a kid for as long as they have.*

*This Pack is weird. Everyone with any kind of real power is young. Niel's only thirty-two, and Alrik told me he's been the Keeper for almost twenty years.*

*Jesus. That's unreal.*

*Tell me about it. The sooner we get out of here, the better.*

* * *

Niel's age also was on Sarah's mind at that moment, though her opinion on the subject was a lot stronger than Brianna's or Kit's.

To her mind, thirty-two was old, but compared to Sherman Blackstone, she was forced to acknowledge that it wasn't exactly ancient. If anything, it made him practically an infant, and she didn't see why she had to take orders from an infant.

Well, there was the fact that he could crush her with one hand if he so chose, but, based on what Niel was telling her, strength didn't automatically mean one was fit for an important position within the Pack. That meant age and experience meant more, and Sarah had noticed that there were a lot of werewolves older and, undoubtedly, more experienced than him. Why weren't one of them the Keeper? Then she wouldn't be forced to endure this male telling her how to be a werewolf day in and day out.

She already knew how to be a werewolf. She couldn't help but to know, any more than a fish knew how to be a fish. At one point on the first day of her "training," she'd pointed this out to Niel.

"Normally, I would agree with you," he replied testily. "However, it's obvious to everyone, except you, that having the ability to flip hasn't helped you understand how to deal with your own kind. Fish listen to their instincts. You, on the other hand, don't. So, that's where we'll start."

And that's what they'd done for ten days now—try to get Sarah back in touch with her instincts. Niel explained to her that once she became comfortable with them, everything would fall into place.

The trouble seemed to be accessing them at all.

He had her sit cross-legged in the dirt, which was ruining her favorite jeans. He didn't care. He said connection to the land was more important than a scrap of fabric that was going to be unwearable in a few years anyway. She pointed out that they were designer, and cost over a hundred dollars.

He just looked at her, then told her to sit down on the ground. He'd had this tone in his voice that somehow made Sarah's knees buckle immediately. Not in fear; they just bent. Next thing she knew, she was sitting cross-legged on the ground without remembering how she got there.

Convinced he'd made his point, Niel instructed her to rest her hands on her knees and close her eyes. But Sarah didn't want to close her eyes; that would make her vulnerable to who-knows-what, and she didn't trust Niel to protect her, let alone not be the instigator of any trouble himself.

Niel used that tone again, and Sarah's eyes closed immediately.

The point, he explained, his voice droning away and doing its best to put her to sleep, was to stop her from relying exclusively on her eyes. A werewolf's eyes were good, but the ears, nose, skin, and even the tongue, was just as useful. She needed to learn to pay attention to them first.

Sarah's hearing had always been exceptional, even before she Changed, so she was able to satisfy Niel that she knew what they were for. Her nose was a little trickier, if only because she had allergies, though nothing nearly so bad as her younger brother. After two days, she satisfied Niel in that, as well.

The problem was the other two senses. Taste and touch. What were they supposed to tell her?

"Which way is the wind blowing?" Niel said. "Is it blowing against your right or your left side? Against your front or your back? What does it feel like? Does it feel solid, or is it rippling about? Is it rough? Is it silky? When you open your mouth, what do you taste? Water? Salt? What else? This is what I mean."

Most of their time so far had been spent on her skin and tongue, and she just didn't get it. Who cared what the air tasted like?

"If you're lost in the woods and thirsty, you can find water with your tongue," Niel explained.

"I can find it with my nose just fine," Sarah shot back.

"Not if you have a cold," he retorted. "And what if you're tracking something and it runs through water? Your nose will be useless then. But if you use your tongue, you can taste the difference between the water and your prey."

"No one can do that," she scoffed.

"I can. The Alpha can. Every Changer Island werewolf can. I bet if I asked Brianna or Kit, they could do it, too, and I wouldn't be surprised if that extended to everyone in Wolf Lake. Didn't anyone explain this to you when you started hunting?"

"I'm not allowed to make the kill," Sarah complained, opening her eyes. "I'm too weak, and could get hurt."

"You never hunted on your own?" Niel asked.

Sara shrugged. "What's the point? If I was hungry, I could get a snack from the kitchen, or go buy a meal at the diner."

"You want me to believe your family bought its meat when it could have saved money by hunting?"

"No! My parents did all the hunting," she explained.

"And you never helped them?"

"I had more important things to do."

"Like what? Your makeup?" Niel scoffed. Sarah's eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened.

"No, like making connections," she snapped. "It was important that I maintain and create alliances for my family within the Pack. Don't you do that here?"

"Of course we do. But alliances are made when each party is confident in the abilities of the other. How many alliances were you able to create for your family to survive politically, while they were busy making sure you survived physically?"

Sarah's face burned with indignation at his rebuke. "That's not my fault!" she said hotly. "No one would talk to me. No one—"

"Wanted an alliance with someone who couldn't even catch a frog for their dinner, but expected to be treated as if she could bring an elk down all by herself." Niel finished for her. "You don't make an alliance with someone you don't respect. Respect is earned, not automatically granted, no matter who your parents are. That's true of everything that lives, and doubly so for werewolves. If you want to make alliances with people, you don't need them to like you, but you _do _need them to respect you. So close your eyes and start earning it."

Sarah felt ashamed. Not because she was weak, or not as clever or pretty as other females, but because of herself. For the first time in her life, she questioned her right to a high place in the Pack, and wondered if it was even worth striving for. Niel was right; she couldn't do anything, couldn't bring anything to the table that would impress anyone else.

For the first time, she realized that being a Hollander wasn't enough.

So she closed her eyes and tried to pay attention to her skin.

* * *

It didn't work.

Of course it wouldn't work, she thought angrily to herself as Niel dropped her off at the café. Who ever thought of something so stupid? Skin was there to keep all the bits of yourself inside, instead of spilling out all over the landscape. Sometimes it even made you feel good, if you stroked it right, but it didn't actually tell you anything.

She ran up the stairs to the apartment and holed up in her bedroom. Flopping down on the bed, she stared at the ceiling and burned with resentment.

This entire situation she found herself in was unbearable. Things hadn't been so great in Wolf Lake for her, but at least there no one made her feel worthless.

Well, to be honest, they'd tried, but no one had actually succeeded. She'd once heard someone say that no one could make you feel worthless except yourself. Sarah questioned that wisdom now, because the Changer Island Keeper seemed to have a knack for it.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, accompanied by the chattering voices of Kit and Brianna. _Brianna. _Ugh. She was the last person Sarah wanted to see. She buried her face under her pillow.

"Sarah?"

She heard the door to her bedroom open. She really hated it when Kit did that. It was so _rude._

"Sarah, Brianna's back," Kit said. "She'd like to say something to you."

Sarah ignored her.

"I want to apologize," Brianna said, not bothering to wait any longer for a response that clearly wasn't coming. "I'm sorry I hurt you. What I did was uncalled for, and I promise you it won't happen again."

Except, according to Niel, what Brianna had done to her _was _called for. Sarah hated Niel.

"We're going to sit in the kitchen and hang out for a bit," Kit told her. "Would you like to join us? Brianna can't stay for very long before she has to go back to the Alpha's house."

That was the most unfair thing of all. Brianna, who should have been _punished_ for what she did to Sarah, no matter that she was a Young, got rewarded by being allowed to move into the Alpha's House, while Sarah had to stay here in this crappy apartment with that stupid old female Elise and Kit Morris.

"Suit yourself, then," Kit said, and they retreated from her room, shutting the door behind them. Sarah pulled her head out from under the pillow and glowered at the ceiling again.

It _was _a reward. The day after that terrifying male, who turned out to be the Alpha of this backwater Pack, took Brianna off, everyone was talking about her. About how strong she was, and smart, and well-mannered. They based this all on the five seconds they'd managed to speak to her when Elise made them go for that walk around the island. And they said it was such a shame that she'd lost control like that, but didn't it make sense because she was new to the Pack, and still feeling her way?

They also said it made sense for her to live with the Alpha, because she was _special._

_Yeah, she's special alright, _Sarah thought bitterly._ Short-bus special._

The worst thing, though, that she'd overheard on the few times she'd been allowed—_allowed, _like she was some kind of criminal on work release—to be around the other werewolves, was that they expected the Alpha to take Brianna as his mate.

That right there was the worst, most unfair thing Sarah had ever heard in her life. Brianna, freaky, demented Brianna, was going to be the Alpha Female of Changer Island. And not just because she was strong and smart and well-mannered, but because of that freakishness. They actually thought it was a good thing. A great thing. And they wanted to set her above all of them and make her the equal to their Alpha.

It made Sarah want to cry. Or spit. She didn't know which. Possibly both.

Not that she wanted the Alpha for herself. Contrary to what everyone else thought, she wasn't completely stupid. She knew she was, and would never be, Alpha Female material. And she was happy that way.

No, it just made her mad that Brianna was the "chosen one." Sarah would almost prefer the Alpha chose Kit instead. Almost. She didn't think she could stomach Kit as her Alpha Female, either. But, if she absolutely _had _to choose . . .

But it wasn't going to be Kit. No, as it turned out, Kit had her own fish on a line. Not that he was much of a sop to Sarah's pride. He was some male named Gerik, and everyone thought he walked on water, too, even though he was the Beta.

So Kit and Brianna were scooping up the best males in the Pack for themselves. Who did that leave for her? Niel? He was too old. In fact, all the males Sarah had seen so far were too old for her to consider as a possible mate, but she was going to have to pick one eventually. That's why they were here, to cement an alliance between Changer Island and Wolf Lake through mating. Vivian Cates said so, and her parents confirmed it when she talked to them the other day.

Sarah had been so happy when Elise let her call her parents. At last, someone who could understand how hard it was for her.

Only they hadn't understood. They told her to quit complaining and do her duty. She was a Hollander, and that meant she had responsibilities. She tried to explain to them how unreasonable this Pack was, but they wouldn't listen.

"Every Pack is different," her father had said. "Learn what those differences are, and adapt accordingly. Fit in. Make alliances. Choose a mate whose strengths will compensate for your weaknesses and elevate your status within the hierarchy."

"I don't think they work like that here," Sarah tried to explain. "It sounds like everyone has to stand on their own, and _then _they pick mates that match them."

At least, that's what she thought Niel meant when she'd asked him. It was one of the few things he hadn't been nasty about. Perhaps he thought it was only natural, considering mating and reproducing were the only reasons she was here in the first place.

Her parents hadn't believed her. All Packs work the same way, they'd said, completely ignorant to the fact that they were contradicting themselves.

Remember you are a Hollander, they'd repeated before ending the conversation.

Sarah was getting sick and tired of them saying that. She never forgot who she was or where she came from, and what that meant.

However, it was starting to dawn on her that the Hollanders might be the only ones who knew that.

* * *

*I see what you mean about Sarah,* Brianna thought to Kit. *Alrik said the lessons were supposed to improve her, but I think she's actually gotten worse.*

*Early days yet,* Kit replied. *It's been hard for her. I overheard Elise and Niel talking. I don't think Sarah really understands what it is they want her to do.*

*What exactly are they doing?*

*I'm not really sure. They don't discuss it around me, and Sarah hasn't said a word about it. She hasn't said much of anything since you've been gone.*

Brianna sipped at her coffee, enjoying every drop. Alrik, on the advice of Michael, was rationing her caffeine intake. Michael told her caffeine made cramps worse, and if she could cut it out of her diet as much as possible, it would be a big help next time.

She snorted at that. Next time was an entire year away. She was supposed to go a year without coffee? She thought Michael was a complete sadist, and told him so. He'd only chuckled and patted her on the head. Literally.

Jerk.

At least Alrik hadn't cut back on her chocolate intake at the same time. He seemed aware, even if Michael wasn't, that denying her chocolate would be signing his own death warrant.

So, she was taking advantage of her afternoon away from her wardens and guzzling as much coffee as she could.

*So, other than Sarah being a brat, what else has been going on?* Brianna asked. Kit shrugged.

*Not much,* she replied. *It's been pretty dull so far.*

*Alrik said you were having a problem with some unwanted attention,* Brianna said. *Unwanted _male _attention. What's up with that?*

*Alrik's awfully chatty about things that aren't his business,* Kit observed tartly.

*He's the Alpha. Everything's his business.*

*And somehow that makes it yours?*

*Hey, I was just asking. If you don't want to talk about it, fine by me.*

Kit sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose.

*Sorry,* she apologized. *I'm just . . . oh, I don't know. It seems like my whole life has become this apartment and the café. Up here, there's Sarah, and down there, it's endless work. I'm bored.*

*What did you do at home when you were bored?*

*That's just it—I had loads of things to do. I could read, but Elise doesn't have that many books of her own. There's a library, but unlike you, I'm not allowed out on my own yet. I could go for a run, but, again, I'm not allowed out on my own yet. There's television, which I'm not particularly fond of, but it's better than nothing. Problem is, Elise isn't fond of it, either, so doesn't have cable.*

*Why aren't you allowed out on your own yet?* Brianna wondered. *I would have thought of any of us, you're the least troublesome. Elise let you run the café all by yourself today, didn't she?*

*It's because of that 'unwanted male attention' Alrik told you about,* Kit explained. *In the café or up here, I'm safe because I'm not alone. I suppose if I asked, Elise could take me to the library, but she's always so busy, or so tired.*

*She doesn't go for runs?*

*Probably, but you know how we get when we flip. I don't think she could protect me if we came across him.*

*So who is 'him?' You think Alrik's a blabber mouth, but he won't even tell me who this guy is.*

*Gerik, the Beta.*

*Gerik?* Brianna exclaimed, making Kit wince as her thoughts slashed across her nerves. Brianna forced herself to settle down. *Gerik is the male who's been bothering you?*

*You sound surprised.*

*Well, yeah. I've been around him a couple times whenever he comes up to the house. He just doesn't seem the type.*

"Well he is.*

*Weird. He seems so laid back.*

*Maybe he is around you, but he'd have to be, wouldn't he?*

*What's that supposed to mean?*

*It may not be official yet, but he probably thinks it's best to just treat you like you're already the Alpha Female.*

*What?*


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

The wave of anger hit Gerik while he, Alrik and Niel were completing routine administrative tasks for the Pack.

It was a small wave, but only because its originator was trying to keep it contained. Still, it lapped at the edges of his consciousness and told him that when said originator arrived, someone was in for a Grade A ass-kicking.

He gently probed the wave, trying to figure out at whom, or what, the anger was directed. Its gradual increase in intensity told him it was heading toward the Alpha's house, and he quickly reeled his own power in, both to minimize his presence as well as prepare himself for the inevitable confrontation.

There were only three people in the house at the moment; Brianna was off visiting Kit, and given the difference in her own power signature, the entire Pack would know where she was. So, unless she had done something and someone was coming here to complain to the Alpha, it was likely that the anger had anything to do with anyone in the house.

Unless someone else unrelated to the triumvirate or the three new females had done something wrong and the injured party was coming to complain. That was just as likely a possibility, and hardly uncommon.

Gerik forced himself to stop guessing and simply ready himself. Whatever it was, they'd find out soon enough. He looked toward the other two males, and was surprised to see that they didn't appear to detect anything. That was odd, and rather careless of them. He opened his mouth to warn them, but was too late.

The front door slammed open, and the wave's full power was at last unleashed. It rolled over the three males, wild and uncontained. It raked across their consciousness, expressing not simply pure anger, but indignation and, oddly enough, betrayal.

The signature was obvious enough now; Brianna was the source, and the Wild Child was _pissed._

Gerik quickly made a mental inventory of everything he'd done over the past few days, and couldn't think of anything that would make her upset. She had been talking to Kit, but he'd avoided that female since their confrontation in the café. He glanced at the other two.

Niel? He'd been hard on Sarah during their lessons, but Gerik couldn't imagine he'd been so severe with the female that Brianna would take offense.

That left Alrik. Gerik couldn't imagine what he would have done to stir Brianna up this much, and though the Alpha could handle anything she threw at him, prepared to back him up, regardless.

Brianna stormed into the room. Her eyes blazed with fury, but her voice was steady.

"Good," she stated when she saw the three of them. "I have a formal complaint I'd like to register regarding the conduct of a member of this Pack." At Niel's nod, she continued. "I have been deceived—grievously deceived—as to the motivation of the recent edicts of the Alpha concerning my person, and I demand restitution."

Oh, damn. She was too flowery in her rhetoric; Gerik knew it was _never _a good sign when a female became so high-browed. On the flip side, it was unlikely this was going to turn into bloodshed. It sounded, and felt, more like she just wanted a bit of drama to soothe her wounded dignity.

"And what exactly do you accuse me of?" Alrik asked, obviously confused.

"You _lied _to me!" she shouted, her control finally breaking, and thrust an accusatory finger at him. "You said my living here was to protect everyone while I was learning how to deal with you all, but _no, _it's because you want to indulge your own _lustful impulses."_

"What?"

"Go ahead and try to deny it, but everyone's been talking about how you intend to take me as your mate," she snarled. "In fact, they say it's all but official now. So go on, tell me how you didn't use your position to get me alone so you could seduce me into submitting to your perversions!"

Gerik's jaw dropped. The possibility of Alrik having actual perversions never would have occurred to him. Lustful impulses, certainly; he was, after all, only nineteen. Lust went along with being nineteen, whether you wanted it to or not. But a closet deviant? Really?

Then again, the Alpha did spend a great deal of his time on the computer. Gerik shot a look at Niel, who appeared just as shocked by Brianna's accusation as the rest of them.

"Just what have the two of you been doing?" Niel wondered.

"I have no idea what she's talking about," Alrik sputtered, at a loss for words for what Gerik assumed had to be the first time in his life. To Brianna, he said, "I haven't laid a finger on you, and you damn well know it."

"Oh, really?" she shot back. "Then what was that about it being only natural that you reciprocate the 'affection' I showed you when you were oh-so-generously taking care of me? My God, no wonder everyone assumed I was your mate once you bragged about me crawling into your bed. Which, by the way, I _still_ don't remember doing, as I was wacked out on Vicodin!"

Her second reference to her being Alrik's mate finally impacted Gerik's brain. _Oh, that. Damn. _Well, it was going to come out eventually. Still, it didn't look like he would be needed and, as he still was frustrated with his own predicament, Gerik leaned back to enjoy Alrik's turn at being raked over the coals.

"I never told anyone about that, because I knew it would embarrass you," Alrik gritted out. "And it would embarrass me."

_Oh, now _that _was a mistake._

"Well I am just _so sorry _that you're humiliated by having to suffer the attentions of such a freak like me," Brianna replied, her face white with rage.

"Goddamnit, I told you already, no one thinks you're a freak!" Alrik yelled, his own temper finally snapping. "It's that very difference that makes you so valuable. Do you honestly think that I can take just any female as my mate? Why do you think you're even here in the first place?"

And there it was, all out on the table. Niel glared at Gerik when he recognized his perverse delight in the situation. Gerik ignored him.

Brianna's power, which had been flooding the room this whole while, snapped back into her so fast Gerik was momentarily disoriented. She drew herself up proudly, her mouth thinning into a hard, bitter line.

"When we were told we were coming here, we were assured that in spite of the fact that it appeared like we were being sold as broodmares, we would still have the freedom of choice," she stated coldly. "That is the Law. That I have been confined to your company alone at the behest of your will makes it appear to me that you never intended to allow me that freedom. I demand that you abide by the Law, and, further, that I be allowed to take up residence somewhere else where I will not be influenced against my will to choose you and only you." She looked at Niel and Gerik in turn before concluding. "As the Pack's Keeper and Beta, I expect you to assistthe _Alpha_ in realizing that this is the correct, the Lawful thing, to do.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go kill something."

She spun on her heel and marched out of the house, slamming the door as she exited. Alrik snarled in frustration, thrust himself away from the table and stormed out of the room. They heard another door slam upstairs.

Gerik couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing.

"This isn't funny," Niel told him severely.

"Yes it is," Gerik replied. "God, you just don't get it, do you? Outside of this region, Alrik Ebsen is the most feared Alpha in the history of our kind, just because he's so powerful, and not because he's actually done anything to deserve it. The land has been singing of his coming for centuries now, did you know that? When I first realized the land was drawing me to Changer Island, I almost shit myself. Me, an Alpha, having to confront the one person who could destroy me without so much as twitching. I was convinced that I was going to my death. I figured out quick enough that I was wrong, but that's what I thought at the time.

"And here he is, in his own home, steamrollered by a female so tiny the top of her head barely reaches his shoulders—"

"She's not that tiny, and he's not that tall," Niel countered pedantically. Gerik ignored him.

"—And all because of the simple fact that she's a Wild Child and all he has to rely on to control her is his own charm. Which, obviously, hasn't worked. Who would have thought the Alpha of the Alphas, the Lord of the Moon himself, didn't know how to talk to girls?"

"And your track record has been so great up until this point?" Niel asked.

"Oh, I've screwed up plenty of times," Gerik replied, the sting of Niel's words not even registering. "But I don't think I've ever managed to slit my throat with my own tongue before."

Niel snorted and rolled his eyes. "Alrik is right, though. That is the reason she's here, and she's going to have to get used to it."

Now it was Gerik's turn to roll his eyes. "No wonder you're still single, Old Man," he retorted. Niel sniffed indignantly. "She's right, too. The female chooses. That is the Law, and Alrik is nothing if not fanatical about upholding the Law. She should have been told about why the land wanted her here in the first place, instead of hearing about it second-hand. Who knows how the whole thing's been screwed up by the time it got to her ears?"

* * *

Brianna hadn't had a destination in mind when she stormed out of the house. All she knew was that she had to get as far away from Alrik as she could. For a second, she entertained the idea of flipping and going hunting, but after a few minutes, she realized that wouldn't be fair to her prey. Killing without hunger was repulsive to her, although she knew many werewolves did just that simply for the joy of it.

So, instead, she wandered the island, letting her feet carry her where they may, and stewed in her own thoughts.

The entire situation was such a violation of everything she had been taught, she didn't know how she would deal with it. The idea for moving out had come to her in a flash, and seemed like the appropriate recourse to demand.

Unfortunately, she was regretting it now, as she was forced to acknowledge that she actually didn't want to change residences. The past five days were, strangely enough, the happiest she'd ever been. For the first time, she felt as if she were able to actually be herself, without worrying about what anyone else would think. Brianna had been secure in the knowledge that Alrik was both strong and perceptive enough to stop her from getting to the point where she would hurt anyone. On the few occasions where she said something out of turn, he corrected her with enough tact that she hadn't felt stung by it.

And, to be completely fair, in spite of waking up in his bed, he had been the perfect gentleman. Her accusations of him attempting to seduce her had been nothing but the product of her tongue running away from her.

In fact, the only discordant note of her staying with him had been the knowledge that it was temporary because she and the others would be leaving as soon as they could. It seemed like such a natural thing, to escape from a situation that wasn't of her making. However, more and more, every time she thought about it, it felt as if it were merely a reflex prompted by the nature of her departing Wolf Lake. A reflex that simply didn't mesh with what she was experiencing here on Changer Island.

Brianna kicked a stone in frustration. The whole thing was just so confusing! How was she supposed to figure it out? Nothing she had experienced or been taught had prepared her for this. In all honesty, it felt like she was the main character in some crappy Romance novel.

_Smart, beautiful, plucky heroine is forced to endure the attentions of the seemingly evil, but definitely sexy, Lord of the Island, only to find out he is merely a tortured, lonely soul who needs the love of a good woman._

It was enough to make her want to shake her fist at the sky and demand an explanation for why God—or whomever was supposed to be in charge—with thousands of years of history and culture at His disposal, couldn't come up with something better.

Brianna plopped down on a boulder overlooking the Sound, shoved her hands in her coat pockets, and brooded.

Escape really was the best thing for them all. Brianna and Kit had been kicked around and forced to pretend to be something they weren't for long enough. Being sent here and forced to mate complete strangers was beyond intolerable. And Sarah? She'd never fit in with any Pack. Best to take her out of the system entirely, where she could . . . do . . . something. What, Brianna wasn't sure, but in spite of how annoying the weaker female was, she owed it to her as her better.

When they were gone, they could go anywhere they wanted, do anything they wanted, and be anything they wanted.

Well, so long as they made sure no one realized they were werewolves.

And that, there, was the rub. They'd have to pretend to be humans, all the way. There were other Packs, but Brianna didn't know where they were, and was sure the others didn't, either. It was more than likely those Packs wouldn't welcome strangers moving into their territories. Or, even worse, that they'd be more than happy to take in three females on their own, whether those females liked it or not. Which meant they'd be in the exact same position as they were now.

So, they would have to be very, very careful.

The more she thought about it, the more hopeless the situation seemed to Brianna. They might always be on the run, constantly looking over their shoulder. A quiet, peaceful existence where they were the controllers of their own destinies seemed just as far out of reach as it did here. Maybe even more so.

This sucked.

"Hello," said a voice behind her. Brianna whipped around in time to see an old male approach. She tensed as he dropped down onto the boulder next to her. "Enjoying the view?" he asked.

He seemed unconcerned by her manner, instead busying himself with settling in and making himself comfortable.

"It's nice," she replied lamely when it became obvious he expected some kind of response.

"Nothing quite like salty sea air to clean you out," he remarked, and drew in a great lungful of air, which he expelled comically with an audible whoosh. Who was this geezer?

"I'm Ben," he introduced himself. "You may not remember it, but we met not too long ago at Elise's. You were a bit agitated at the time. Understandable, of course."

Brianna reddened when she realized what he meant. She turned away, and didn't say anything. The logical thing would be to get up and leave, but her mood was still bad enough that she was struck by the puerile urge to force him to abandon the spot. Never mind that he was her elder; she had been here first, and she was the stronger, so, technically, he was supposed to cede to her.

Old Ben crossed his ankles in front of him, appearing to have no real desire to cede anything.

"You seem a bit agitated now," he commented. "Can't be the same reason, though. It's been over a week."

Her face deepened in shade until it was almost purple. Were people so bored here that they had nothing better to talk about than her estrous cycle? Would she get more of the same if she were still here in a year? Would total strangers come up to her and say, "better get inside, Brianna! Heat's coming on, and you know what you're like then. Here's some AAA batteries. Billy Bob Joe Smith down at the general store said he thought you might be running out."

"Care to talk about it?" Ben offered.

"No," she snapped, then forced herself to relax and assume some semblance of dignity. "No, thank you," she amended.

"The boy made you mad, didn't he?"

"The boy?"

"The Alpha. Alrik. Yep, he said the wrong thing, I'll bet," Ben nodded sagely. "Of course he did. You're out here looking at the sea. _C'est l'amour. _That's the only thing that could make you so unhappy you would sit on a rock on a cold day and look out at the sea. Well, and _la vie, _too, but they go hand in hand, don't they?"

"I'm not in love with him," she retorted angrily. "I hate him. He's a pompous ass that someone needs to kick to the curb."

"I didn't say you loved him. Did I say you loved him? No, I said that is Love. Love with a capital 'l.' The idea of it. It always makes things snarly. And look, here you are. Snarly."

"I'm not going to be his mate," she snarled. "No matter what he says. And just what did he mean, that I'm the only female who can be his mate? What kind of stupid romantic bullshit is that?"

"He said you were the only female who could be his mate? Interesting. What else did he say?" Ben prodded.

"He said it was the only reason why I was here in the first place," she told him, not caring that the old male had tricked her into talking, despite her intentions. It felt good to vent at someone without wanting to cave their skull in at the same time. "It's complete crap, and totally against the Law. I won't stand for it."

Ben was silent for a while, lost in thought. "What if I were to tell you that your coming here and mating with our Alpha was foretold ages ago, by the most powerful Keeper our kind has ever had, on his deathbed. And, furthermore, that your union would produce a child that would save our people from destruction by humanity?"

"Oh, please, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," she replied and turned her attention back to the sea. Her eyes widened. "It's not true, is it?"

"No," Ben assured her. "I just made it up. Sometimes, though, young people like that sort of thing. But our Alrik, now, his coming _was _foretold. We have been waiting a long time for the Lord of the Moon to be born."

Brianna rolled her eyes. Lord of the Moon? That was just as tacky as "Lord of the Island." Actually, it was worse. Who thought up these kinds of things?

"And let me guess—he's supposed to lead us to the Promised Land, or something similar, right?" she said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm.

"Nope," Ben refuted. "He's just supposed to be born, is all. I suppose it would be more poetic if there was some big danger he needed to save us all from, but the Keeper who saw his coming made no mention of it."

"Well, if he was on his deathbed, maybe he died before he could tell everyone."

"Wrong again. He is supposed to have made the vision in his youth—that's how everyone knew he needed to be trained. Lived for quite a long time after that, too. No, Destiny is not nearly so tidy as we would have her be."

"So, big deal. He's a great leader," Brianna said. "I'm still not going to be his mate just because he says so."

"Oh, no, the Lord of the Moon is more than just a leader of his people," Ben told her. "He's the Alpha of the Alphas. The strongest of the strongest caste we have."

Brianna's brow furrowed. Something about that statement felt off to her.

"Why does everyone keep talking about Alphas like they're different from the rest of us?" she finally asked. Ben peered at her, obviously surprised.

"Because they are," he said. "Not anyone can be an Alpha. You have to be born one."

"Wolf Lake has an Alpha, and she wasn't born one," she pointed out. Ben shook his head.

"No, Wolf Lake has a leader who calls herself Alpha," he stated. "Calling yourself something doesn't make it so. It's not like humans, who, when a king dies, just find a likely looking fellow and stick a crown on his head."

"It's not quite that simple," she refuted, but he ignored her and went on.

"To be an Alpha, there's no real recipe for it. It either happens or it doesn't. Well, that's not entirely true. Breeding strength to strength seems to produce more Alphas than not. Anyway. It doesn't matter. It's not like bees; you can't just feed one special jelly and it grows up to be an Alpha."

"So what is an Alpha, then?" Brianna interrupted, not knowing if she could stand one more goofy analogy. The question seemed to phase Ben, though.

"Hm. What is an Alpha?" he mused. "I don't think there's words to describe it, really. Let me show you."

His mind reached out toward hers, and after a brief hesitation, she made the connection. Immediately, her mind was flooded . . .

_A male moving across the landscape, the one merging with the other, as wolves dance around him and through him. Gossamer threads extending from all parts of him, connecting to the wolves, taking from them and giving back. Sometimes the threads merged, joining two wolves together briefly, and the male took parts of them and gave them to the other. They would separate then, and go on their way, sometimes to join with other wolves, sometimes to remain apart, yet always, always they were connected to the male._

_And then she saw a wolf whose thread was not connected to the male before her, but shot off into the distance. Still he danced, until the male gently pushed him away, and he ran off into the night. She noticed a thread that extended deep into the darkness around them, not connected to any wolves that she could see. Eventually, a wolf did appear out of the darkness, connected to the end of that thread, and joined the dance. For a second, he faltered, colliding with the other wolves, but soon enough, the male untangled him and he matched his steps to the dancers around him._

*That is an Alpha,* Ben told her. *And this is Alrik.*

_The male was suddenly joined by other males, all with their own packs of dancing wolves, all moving through the landscape in the same way. Then, from out of the land itself, arose another male, again, with his own wolves. He seemed the same, and yet he was different. Brighter, somehow. Stronger. More beautiful._

_Males and their wolves clashed together, and threads sprang out from the one male to seize them. He forced them apart, forced them to resume their own intricate dance around one another. Sometimes, a male and his wolves would try to take on the one, and upon impact, he and his wolves would shatter against the might of the one. The glittering shards of them blew away, light as dried leaves, fluttering on the breeze, until they touched the landscape and were absorbed._

_Eventually, all the males had threads connecting them to the one male, and he took away part of them and gave back. They became his dancers, as much as the wolves at his feet. They fed him until he shone, brighter than the full moon on a cold, clear winter night. Until he was the only thing that she could see. Could, in fact, feel._

Ben broke the connection. He reached out to steady Brianna, who was so dazed from the vision she was in danger of tumbling off the boulder.

"You see now?" he said. "No words to describe an Alpha. Just clumsy images and feelings. It is overwhelming, I know, to come from a Pack with no Alpha to a Pack that has the greatest of all Alphas. But, here you are now. Nothing else to do but live with it."

But how did she live with it? Nowhere in the vision had Brianna recognized a wolf that might be a Wild Child.

"How do I fit in?" she asked out loud, suddenly depressed at the thought that, in spite of this Pack's seemingly good intentions, she might not have a place anywhere.

"Interesting question," Ben replied. "And one that I, unfortunately, cannot answer. I'm just a simple wolf, dancing for the pleasure of his Alpha. I expect Alrik would be able to tell you that."

"Still doesn't mean I want to be his mate," she grumped, returning to the point of their conversation. Ben sighed.

"Let me tell you something about Alrik—like most great leaders who manage to remain sensible at the same time, he doesn't want to be different," he explained. "It's no fun being at tippy-top of the mountain. There isn't room for anyone else. For the Alpha of Alphas, being at the tippy-top means he can make the rest of the mountain dance to his tune. He can even grind it to powder if he so feels like it, and there's nothing the mountain can do to stop him.

"Because we know Alrik, we are confident that he wouldn't be so capricious. Nevertheless, there is always a tiny part of us that fears he might forget himself, and he knows this. It's not very nice, knowing that the people who watched you grow up, who taught you right from wrong, and who love you dearly, are afraid of you in spite of themselves. It's also very lonely. And our Alrik is very, very lonely.

"So what is a lonely Lord of the Moon supposed to do? He can take whatever mate he wants, and she will be more than pleased to be his companion and bear him children. But she, like the rest of us, will always be a little afraid of him. And what if he loses his temper, lashes out with his power? He's not a god. He has little moments here and there, where his control slips away from him. The best that would happen would he might scare her. The worst? That he would destroy her. It's not fair to her, nor is it fair to him, to have to worry all the time. To never really be himself, because it might hurt someone."

"So I'm the one who gets thrown on the grenade so everyone else can survive?" Brianna asked, suddenly angry again. Ben patted her arm in an attempt to sooth her.

"No, no," he assured her. "That's what is so wonderful about Wild Children, don't you see?" When it was evident that she didn't see, he chuffed, expressing his annoyance. "Pay attention! Put it together! What do you know about Wild Children? What makes you so special, eh?"

Brianna struggled to remember what, exactly it was that marked her apart, other than a short temper and the descended-from-a-true-wolf thing.

"Something about power," she said. Alrik had crammed her head with so many new things these past few days, she couldn't— "I'm resistant to his power. That's why Packs don't like us. Alphas can't control us."

"Eh, not necessarily true," Ben said. "There's no little thread the Alpha can jerk to make a Wild Child dance to his tune. But that doesn't mean a Wild Child doesn't want an Alpha. Whatever it is that makes them obey, it's something different. But, you are right about the power thing. An Alpha cannot use his power against a Wild Child the same way he can against a normal werewolf. Do you see now?"

"No, I don't 'see now.' You've spent all this time telling me that Alrik's a different kind of Alpha, so why would the normal rules of Alphas apply?"

"Because no matter what, when it comes to Wild Children, he's still an Alpha." Ben started to grow excited. "With you, if he loses his temper, you'll feel his power, but it'll probably just make you angry. It won't hurt you. At least, not physically. And I think, given the type of female you are, you'd just hit him, rather than run away and cry. I am right, am I not?"

Brianna grudgingly conceded that he probably was. She didn't like to think she was so undisciplined she would actually strike an Alpha, but, if it was as Ben supposed, that Alpha pushed first, and for no good reason, she'd push right back. Hopefully his skull would hit the wall just hard enough so he'd get the message the first time.

"It is a very lucky thing that you came along while Alrik was so young," Ben added. "The loneliness hasn't made him brittle and cold. That happens sometimes, you know. Very sad when it does. It's not easy to undo that kind of damage."

"Look, it's great that Alrik can be normal around me," she said. "But in normal matings, the individuals like each other. And I don't particularly like Alrik."

"Not right now, no," conceded Ben. "But that's because he said the wrong thing to you. And that's just because he's never courted a female before. I've bet you've been courted plenty, right?"

Brianna shrugged noncommittally. It seemed inappropriate to brag about how many boyfriends she'd had to someone who wanted her to commit to his Alpha. At the same time, she hadn't had as many boyfriends as other females, so there was a bit of pride mixed in there, too.

"You have come to expect a certain level of expertise," Ben continued. "I'm not saying that's a bad thing. That's normal. But you can't expect it from Alrik. He's going to mess up, and it's up to you to be the bigger person and forgive him for it. He'll get better as time goes on. You'll see."

Ben stood up and dusted off the seat of his pants.

"And the last thing you need to remember," he added, "is that no matter what, you _do _have a say. The Pack would like it very much if you stayed here and made our Alpha happy, but we understand that it may not work that way. Alrik understands that, too, though it may not seem like that right now. All we ask is that you give it a chance before making up your mind."


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Kit wanted to smack herself. How could she have been so stupid? She may have spent her whole life at the bottom of the Pack, far removed from the company of those who governed it, but that didn't mean she was completely ignorant of the subtleties of their machinations. The selection of an Alpha Female was a delicate matter; no matter what his personal inclinations, an Alpha couldn't take just any mate.

Like other mates, his would be more than just a lover and mother to his children; she would be his confidante, advisor, and, ultimately, his partner. And since the male in question was the Alpha, the absolute ruler of a Pack, his mate would be in a position that granted her more power than any other Pack member, even the Beta and the Keeper. In a sense, the Alpha Female was a co-ruler, though she technically held no official administrative power unless the Alpha himself were incapacitated for some reason.

In other words, it was a huge responsibility, and the Alpha had to make sure the female he chose would act in the Pack's best interests, rather than abuse the position for her own gain. Raw strength wasn't enough; a female had to be intelligent, perceptive, and, above all, willing to make personal sacrifices when the situation called for it.

Kit wasn't sure why everyone assumed Brianna was going to be the Alpha's mate, especially since her residence in his house had more to do with protecting the Pack than anything else. Under those circumstances, she would have thought Brianna was a bad choice for Alpha Female, but the Changer Islanders seemed to think otherwise. It was their sanguine acceptance that had lulled Kit into a sense of complacency about the issue, and she shouldn't have assumed Brianna felt the same way.

In fact, she damn well knew better.

Elise broke through Kit's musings and asked her to come down and grab dinner for herself and Sarah. Sighing heavily, she pushed back from the table and made her way down the stairs after quickly telling Sarah where she was going.

No way Elise didn't know something was going on, not after Brianna had stormed out of the apartment. The entire café would have seen her marching down the street and known, even if they didn't pick up on the anger rolling off her, and that meant the entire Pack would be on alert for the latest gossip about their newest members.

Sure enough, as soon as Kit walked back into the café kitchen, Elise cornered her and, with an attempt at casualness that belied her obvious curiosity, asked if anything was the matter.

"You have a disagreement or something?" she wondered. Kit decided the best thing to do was confess. If Brianna was headed toward a meltdown, everyone needed to know about it.

"I screwed up," she admitted tiredly. Elise's head shot up.

"What do you mean?" the older female demanded, no longer quite so nonchalant.

"I mentioned to Brianna that everyone assumed she was going to be the Alpha Female. It turns out she was the only person that didn't know, and it's not something she would be happy about hearing. If I'd been thinking at all, I would have kept my mouth shut."

"Well, what do you mean, she didn't know?" Elise demanded. "And why wouldn't she be pleased? It's a great honor."

"_I'd_ be honored. Sarah would jump at the chance with both feet. Brianna . . . not so much. She's never been power-hungry, and she doesn't like responsibility. In fact, all she ever really wanted to do was have fun."

Elise snorted and transferred two roasted ducks to a tray. "That's hardly surprising, considering her age. But she'll get used to the idea."

"I don't think so," Kit commented as she spooned mashed potatoes into a bowl and added them to the tray.

"Yes, she will," the older female said firmly, though with a trace of her good humor returning. "Everyone does. That's part of growing up. Now, I concede that a lot has happened to you all in the past few weeks, and _maybe _we jumped the gun a little bit. Nevertheless, it's the best thing for everyone. Brianna isn't going to find another male here who would have a snowball's chance in Hell in being able to deal with her for more than five minutes together. And she'll be good for the Alpha. He needs someone to keep him on his toes."

"Good for him?" Kit repeated incredulously. "You do know where she's going right now, don't you? She's going to rip him apart." She added emphasis to her words by gesturing with the serving spoon, and a lump of potatoes flew off and smacked onto the window. Elise shot her a sour look.

"Please do not throw food around in my kitchen," she said flatly.

"Sorry." Kit fetched a rag and cleaned up the potatoes.

"Brianna can try all she wants, but I would be very surprised if she so much as scratches him," she continued, adding a bowl of salad to the tray. "I don't doubt she'll give it her best shot, but Alrik Ebsen is the strongest Alpha we have ever had. He might not be able to use his power on her as easily as another werewolf, but there's nothing about her that'll stop the strength of his body. Besides, all he really has to do is slap a hand on her forehead and hold her at arm's length until she runs out of energy." Kit choked on a laugh in spite of her anxiety. "Then, once she's good and worn out, they can have a nice, adult conversation about it." She handed the tray to Kit. "And anyway, no one expects them to just jump right into bed with one another. Brianna can take all the time she wants to get to know him and get comfortable with the idea. Just not forever.

"Now get that food upstairs before it gets cold, and make Sarah eat a full serving of everything," ordered Elise. "Even if you have to sit on her."

Kit nodded dutifully and took the tray up to the apartment. Since they arrived on the island, Sarah had been eating less and less, and her temper was suffering from it. None of them thought she was purposely starving herself. Rather, it was obvious that the female's distress was killing her appetite. Unfortunately, the rest of her body didn't care. All it knew was that unnecessary stress was being placed upon it, and it was causing her to act out accordingly.

Kit arranged the serving dishes on the table in the apartment's kitchen, then set places for the two of them. She knocked on Sarah's door and told her to come to eat, but there was no response.

"What do you want to drink?" Kit called through the wood in one last attempt to encourage her. When there was still no answer, Kit decided it was time for the kid gloves to come off. She pushed the door open and strode into the room. Sarah was still laying on her bed, her face buried in the pillow. Kit yanked it out from underneath her head.

"Hey!" the other female protested, rolling onto her back and glaring up at her.

"Enough!" Kit snapped. "Enough with the pity party, okay? Get your ass up and put some food in your goddamn stomach."

"Leave me alone," Sarah whined and tugged ineffectively at the pillow. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are. You want to know why you feel like crap? It's because you've eaten nothing today, and you only had a cracker yesterday. You need food. Now, I'm going to count to three, and if you're not on your feet by then, I'm going to drag you to the table, tie you to a chair and force the food down your throat." Sarah sneered at her and rolled onto her side, giving her back to Kit. "One. Two . . . if you're going to act like a child, I'm going to treat you like one. Last chance." Sarah flipped her off over her shoulder. "Three. Fine, have it your way."

Kit grabbed Sarah by the upper arm and jerked her off the bed. She might be underweight from stressing over whether she would survive to see the end of each day for years, but most of those years were spent hauling heavy trays of food around. Getting a recalcitrant werewolf on her feet wasn't that much of a challenge.

And after pulling night shifts when the alcohol was flowing a bit too freely, she had plenty of experience dodging fists very like the one Sarah sent flying her way.

"Nice try," she scoffed as she ducked and caught Sarah's wrist at the same time. "Now quit being a baby and come on."

She dragged Sarah into the kitchen, the younger female fighting her all the way. However, Sarah's feeble attempts weren't enough to break her hold, and before she could finish a single protest, Kit dropped her into a chair and shoved it up to the table. Sarah pushed back, but slammed into Kit standing close enough behind her that she didn't have enough room to escape. She then tried to slip out underneath the table, but Kit grabbed the back of her shirt and hauled her back into her chair.

"Keep trying, Sarah," Kit told her. "I'm going anywhere, and if this takes all night, then so be it. Just remember that the food will be ice cold by then, and I will still make you eat it."

Sarah froze for a moment, considering her options, then shrieked with rage and drummed her feet on the floor, surprising Kit with her infantile behavior.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she screamed. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Kit considered relenting a little bit and giving her some kind of consolation, but discarded the impulse immediately. They'd all been too nice to Sarah and it had gotten them nowhere. Time to take a page out of Brianna's book and turn mean.

"Because I can," Kit stated calmly. "I have enough problems of my own to deal with right now without pandering to your vanity, as well. And guess what? Out of all those problems, your attitude and disrespect toward me is the only thing I can actually fix. Aren't you just so lucky?"

Sarah subsided, panting. Kit waited another twenty minutes until she felt the other female's energy stabilize before moving.

"Now, shall we try this again?" she asked as she walked over to the refrigerator. "What would you like to drink?"

"Your blood would be ideal," Sarah snarled, though without any heat. Kit merely smiled in response and pulled out the ice tea. She poured two glasses and set one before the other female, then began to carve one of the ducks.

* * *

Elise chuckled to herself as she listened to the scuffling coming from the apartment above her, and began to close up the café for the night. Though not particularly violent herself, she nevertheless thought Sarah was overdue having some sense literally knocked into her. Elise had no doubt Sarah had gotten away with nothing more than a stern talking-to, which, considering how obtuse the young female was, wouldn't have done a damn thing. Maybe getting some sense literally knocked into her would be better. Werewolves, after all, tended to be better communicators with their bodies than their mouths.

Humming to herself, Elise carried the till from the register into the back office and locked it up in the safe. She'd count it tomorrow morning, when she did the books. Maybe in the afternoon she and Kit could go for a run while Sarah was having her lesson with the Keeper, if she could talk Ben into joining them. Gerik had kept his word and stayed away from the café, but Elise didn't want to test his willpower if he came across them without another male in their company. Not that Ben was—or ever would have been—a match for him. Simply, his presence would remind the Beta that he needed to continue to be on his best behavior if he wanted to have any kind of a chance with Kit.

Speaking of Ben . . . Elise probed the island, looking for him. Despite her humor in the face of Kit's earlier distress, she had been well aware of the trouble that might be brewing when Brianna left earlier and headed back to the Alpha's house. Granted, she hadn't known exactly what transpired between her and the other female to make her so angry, but suspected the Alpha would bear the brunt of it. Worried that things might get a tad out of hand, Elise mentally contacted Ben, asking him to look into the situation and diffuse it, if possible. As the former Keeper for Changer Island, he had more than enough experience soothing youngsters' ruffled feathers.

That still didn't mean she wasn't just a bit worried about him. Like everyone else, Elise had heard of Wild Children, but up until ten days ago, didn't really appreciate just how much of a handful they could be. Though he was bigger, older, and cannier than Brianna, Elise wouldn't be surprised if the young female's natural aggression was enough to compensate for that and actually hurt him. Of course the female would be distressed afterwards, but that wouldn't be much help to him, would it?

Having located him at home, Elise sent Ben a mental query as to his well-being. He assured her he was fine, and invited her over for a bite to eat and a full report of his conversation with their future Alpha Female. Elise hesitated before answering. There were a multitude of reasons why she should decline. The amount of food she'd sent back with Kit was intended to feed all three of them, as she'd dined with the younger females since their arrival. She wouldn't want it to go to waste; cold duck wasn't exactly her favorite thing, since the fat congealed into a thick grease that rendered the rest of the meat tasteless. Also, she wasn't sure leaving Kit and Sarah alone tonight was the best idea. Elise might think that Sarah needed to be knocked down a few pegs, but there was a small chance Kit might take it too far. That female had a lot of pent-up anger, and considering how irritated she'd been with Sarah lately, it wouldn't take too much for her to get pushed beyond her control.

On a personal level, Elise wasn't sure if she wanted to be alone with Ben. She was well aware that he was interested in her; her nose would have to be broken for her to not have sniffed that out. Oh, she didn't think he would do anything untoward; she just wasn't sure if she was willing to start up something new this late in her life.

Still . . .

She put her ear to the door of the apartment and listened for a few minutes. When she didn't hear anything, she sent a mental thread to Kit, asking if everything was alright. Kit assured her she had things well in hand, and that Sarah was eating for once.

Maybe it would be alright if she left them alone. Besides, it wouldn't do to stomp all over Sarah's pride all at once; having an older female witness Kit's disciplining her without lifting a hand to stop it would do more harm than good.

And accepting an invitation to nibbles and gossip didn't mean she was promising anything else. Certainly not at their age. She could easily put Ben in his place if he got too fresh.

That decided it then. Elise informed Ben she would be there soon, buttoned her coat, and headed off down the path toward his house.

* * *

When Sarah had scraped the last of the potatoes from the bowl, then asked if there was any dessert, Kit considered the experiment a success. She didn't push her luck and ask if the other female felt better now, though, and only remarked that there was some leftover pie in the refrigerator.

However, she did suggest that Sarah wash the dishes for once.

"Not right away," she added. "You can wait until you can move again. But it's time you started doing your fair share of the work."

Sarah made a face, but didn't vocalize any protest. Kit pondered whether what Sarah may have needed this whole time was a firm hand, as it did seem that she was getting better results by using the stick rather than the carrot.

Regardless, she had things to do, and pushed back from the table and went into her room. She hadn't been sounding off when she told Sarah she had more than enough problems to deal with at the moment, and no clear idea how to fix them. Still, there was no way they were going to solve themselves, so she might as well start trying now.

Kit rummaged around in her luggage until she found what she was looking for. Like Brianna, she hadn't packed her things; her mother had done it for her. And, like Brianna's sister, her mother realized she would need more than her clothes and a few trinkets to take with her to her new home.

Her mother . . . Kit sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped her head into her hands. She hadn't really thought too much about her parents since coming here. Part of her was angry with them; they hadn't bothered to even tell her good-bye, just sent her cousin to do the dirty work of seeing her booted out of Wolf Lake. No doubt they had their reasons, and though Kit appreciated Tyler's attempt to help her, she would have preferred her parents in those last moments.

Especially her mother.

It had been her mother who taught her everything she needed to know to survive in the Pack. How to hide her true strength, so other members who weren't in disgrace wouldn't see her as a challenge, or fear that she might rise up against the natural order of things, as her grandfather had done nearly sixty years earlier. How to overcome her instincts to dominate those weaker than herself, to be silent and swallow their insults and abuse, because no gains she acquired for herself would be allowed to stand. How not to be noticed, so that in time, everyone would get in the habit of overlooking her, just as they would any other member at the bottom of the heap.

Her mother also taught her how to alleviate the pain and distress she caused herself by going against her nature. An old thing, her mother explained. Something that most werewolves in Wolf Lake had forgotten, or thought unnecessary in this day and age. A little trick to help make life just that much more bearable.

Kit opened the shoebox and removed the small ceramic plate, which she set on top of the nightstand. Next, she opened the plastic bag and removed a fragile block of compressed orange powder, which she stood upright in the dish. She resealed the bag and placed it back in the box, which she slid under the bed. There were other things in the box that she could use, but didn't need them for such a simple exercise.

She lit the block, waited until the flame ate a small bit of it, then blew it out. She continued to breath gently on it until the tip glowed brightly and thick juniper-scented smoke poured into the air. Settling down on the bed, she made herself comfortable, closed her eyes and deepened her breathing. In for four slow counts, hold for two, and out for four more counts. Hold for two more, and then repeat, sucking in deep lungfuls of the smoke. Again and again, until her body tingled and a sharp ache gathered in the center of her forehead.

Kit focused on that ache, willing it to spread, until it engulfed her and rendered her body numb. Then, she cleared her mind of everything, and sank down into the darkness.

Her consciousness drifted in a sea of nothingness for what seemed like hours, and yet no time at all. She let the void wick away all her frustrations and anxiety, and relaxed completely, allowing herself to enjoy the timelessness.

Soon enough, though, she felt something hook into her. Rather than resist, she followed whatever it was, climbing up and up, a pressure gradually building and closing in on her consciousness, until suddenly it was released, and at last, she could see the world as it never would appear to her physical eyes.

Her mother called it "the other state." What its purpose was, she admitted she didn't know, but it was useful as a brief vacation away from the concerns of the everyday world. When her mother first brought her here, showing her the path through their joined consciousnesses, it was a landscape blanketed in mist. Sometimes that mist would part, and she would catch a glimpse of an outcropping of rock, or a stream burbling through mossy banks. Her mother encouraged her to run and play throughout the landscape, promising that nothing here would hurt her or hold her back.

She had been right, but Kit found that there was more to the other state that her mother had told her, or maybe even realized. The first few years after she Changed, she had no friends, and sought out the other state again and again to relieve her loneliness. In time, she realized that it never changed, at least not as one would think an intangible plain of existence might, so she tried to map it. At first, she thought it would resist, but surprisingly, the landscape seemed agreeable to her attempts to pin it down. So, her starting point always began at the pillar of lichen-covered stones. If she went just so far to her right, she would come to the waterfall. If she headed up the waterfall, she would come to the cave settled deep within the mountain whose peak was forever hidden by the mists. If she went into the cave, eventually she would find markings on the walls. Spirals and diamond patterns, strange flower-like images, and circles she intuitively knew were suns and moons. Ancient things, yet still powerful.

Kit wasn't sure if the other state put these things here to amuse her, or if someone else had left them before as they passed through the same place. Once, she traced a spiral on a blank stretch of wall with her finger. It was invisible to her eye, but all the same, she could feel it there. The next time she came to the cave, there was a new spiral in that spot, exactly as she visualized her own to be. She had stared at it wonder, joyful and yet trepidacious to see it there, and then that's it happened.

The spiral started to move, rotating through the stone as if it were made of water. When she touched it, though, it still felt solid, and the sharp edges of the carved line itself cut into her fingers. Entranced, she continued to watch it, until the spiral consumed her vision, and drew her consciousness down into it.

The lines blurred and became like smoke, the stone walls between the lines darkening into blackness, like the void. She felt herself spinning in time with it, until she became disoriented, and then the spiral spat her out.

There was no mist obscuring this landscape from her view. However, it was always night, and she could never touch the ground. Instead, she floated over it, buffeted hither and yon by the wind. The landscape was broken up by what Kit interpreted to be large bodies of water, some appearing to be streams and rivers, others lakes and seas. The water reflected nothing, though they were perfectly smooth, polished surfaces. The land itself was blurry and shadowed, though from time to time she caught glimpses of bright blue lights.

It was this landscape Kit immersed herself in. The first was a playground, and one she still visited the most, but this place—this was where she could actually gain some control over her life.

It took her some time to realize that this place actually was a mirror of the everyday world. The lights she saw were people, and with a bit of practice, she determined who they were, and what their positioning meant.

She also figured out how to manipulate the landscape to show her more than just the present, which was her intention for coming here tonight.

Kit located the dark mass of land that represented Changer Island. A quick scan of the lights confirmed her assumption when she recognized their signatures. Elise was moving across the island, a faint silvery line telling her she heading toward Ben. Sarah was remaining in one place, where Kit assumed the apartment was in the everyday. She couldn't detect her own light, but then again, she never did. She supposed it was because, technically, her light was detached from the map of the landscape.

Curious, she searched for Brianna, and found the female by herself at the very edge of the island. A quick scan of her light told Kit that Brianna was still upset, but no longer so violent. Relieved there would be no trouble, at least for the time being, she left Brianna behind.

This next part would be tricky; she'd only done it once before, and with someone she knew very well. She wasn't sure how successful she would be repeating the experiment with a virtual stranger—no matter how intimate their brief encounters had been in the past. Still, it was worth a shot, and if she didn't start figuring out what to do, the situation in the everyday was only going to get worse.

After what seemed like ages, Kit managed to locate the Beta's light. Like Sarah's, it was stationary. For all she knew, he was pacing in circles around his living room, but given that there was no indication he had a purpose, and that he was alone, she assumed he was at home. That was ideal for her purposes; if he was in his own private territory, he would be relaxed, and it would make it easier for her to do this.

Kit mimicked drawing a piece of herself up like a thread, careful not to look at herself while she did it. Whenever she actually tried to look at herself, it broke her concentration and she automatically was thrust back into the everyday. Snapping out of the other state so quickly always left her with a migraine that lasted days. With a sharp tug, she snapped the thread, wincing slightly as she felt it deep within herself. Next, she reached out and repeated the exercise with Gerik, careful to move slowly so as not to distress him. She wasn't certain if what she did in this landscape could be felt in the everyday, but she didn't want to risk it. The tiniest bit of stress on the part of either person involved could drastically affect the outcome.

Quickly, she split each thread into three parts, paired them up, one of her to one of Gerick, then braided the pieces back together. Next, she divided the braid into three equal parts and knotted their ends together, so there was a single lump with three braids hanging from it. Kit floated over to the center of the island and hovered as close to the surface of the land as she could. She punched the knotted end down into the earth as far as she could, then visualized a rock settling on top of it. She gently pulled the three braids away from the rock, then tossed them into the sky and let them settle where they may.

_So far so good, _she thought to herself, and began the laborious process of backing out of the other state to return to the everyday.

When Kit eventually did open her eyes, she blinked rapidly, trying to clear out the grittiness remaining from keeping them closed so tightly. The incense had burned through, though the scent of juniper lingered heavily in the air. The clock informed her that she'd only been under for about an hour, though it felt like longer.

Flipping on the light, Kit reached for her purse and pulled out the small pocket calendar she kept in it. She made a notation to return to the landscape and check up on the braids in three days, noting the exact hour and minute.

Everything had to be done in threes, though why, Kit didn't know. Trial and error, however, had taught her there was no point in checking on the braids any sooner, and if she waited too long, they would be gone. Also, if it wasn't exactly three braids, they wouldn't tell her anything at all.

Hopefully, if she did it correctly, the braids would give her some idea of how to proceed with the whole Gerik situation. Granted, it was a fairly recent development, but there were such strong feelings on both sides that if something wasn't done soon, it would start to affect the rest of the Pack. So, once they were ripe for analysis, the braids would give her a better idea of what to expect should she encourage the Beta, or refuse him outright.

Ideally, she would refuse him. After all, she still assumed the best course of action was to leave Changer Island and start over in a place that had never heard of it or Wolf Lake. However, in the past few days, she'd had the niggling feeling that there were loose ends to tie up before that. And, though she hated to admit it, she was curious as to why someone as powerful as Gerik would find her so compelling.


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Niel and Gerik departed not long after Brianna stormed out of the house, leaving Alrik to stew by himself, for which he was grateful. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now; he was too overwhelmed by his emotions, and didn't feel like controlling himself enough to spare others his own turmoil. Especially since he wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling.

Anger, certainly. That Brianna would assume he would force her into anything was beyond insulting. In the past five days, he'd been scrupulous about ensuring that he didn't say or do anything she might consider too familiar. And he'd wanted to. Oh, God, how he'd wanted to.

It wasn't just about sex—up until yesterday, her physical condition wouldn't have allowed it. Nevertheless, there were countless things they could do that wouldn't have put any stress on her. Certainly some on himself; there was only so much he could take. However, Alrik was well aware of his limits, and simple intimacies weren't intolerable.

No, it was the emotional aspect to those intimacies he craved. In spite of his intentions, he'd quickly become accustomed to Brianna's insatiable need for physical contact while she was in pain. He was well-prepared to carry out his duties as the leading Alpha of Changer Island—his grandfather had ensured that—but it didn't mean he was exempt from the same needs as other werewolves, and werewolves needed to touch and be touched. Gerik and Niel might be as close to him as brothers, but even they wouldn't presume to so much as brush up against him without expressed permission. They had too much respect, and fear, for that matter, for the consequences should he forget himself and instinctively lash out.

Brianna, the Wild Child, was different. She wasn't afraid of him, simply because she didn't need to be. Alrik was sure if he really exerted himself, his power could affect her enough to hurt her. However, he doubted a situation where he would do so would ever arise. In fact, when they were alone, he was able to completely release the chains on his power, and, for the first time in his life, truly relax. The relief he'd felt had been akin to a man who, forced to consume nothing but bread and water his whole life, was finally allowed to eat whatever he wanted.

And Brianna had been more than happy to offer him as wide a variety of dishes as he could imagine.

He hadn't merely been teasing her when he claimed she kept climbing into his bed at night, though he did take a secret amusement in her scandalized reaction. Alrik honestly did try to put some space between them, but inevitably, as soon as he dropped off to sleep, he would be reawakened by her slipping between the sheets and curling her body around him. _That _had been hard; to feel her smooth, cool skin against his own, one leg slip between his and a hand slide up his chest, and constantly remind himself that it was merely her need for comfort that caused her to behave so. That there was nothing either of them could truly do to alleviate the heavy ache building in his groin.

He got through it, of course, by promising himself that it would only be a few short days before he could do just that, so he gritted his teeth and bore it out, limiting himself to what was possible.

And then he discovered that the whole time, her consciousness had been completely suppressed by her instinctive need to survive when in such a weakened state. It hadn't been the real Brianna who climbed onto in his lap whenever he sat down at the computer, or insisted on scrubbing his back when he showered, then teased him mercilessly by running her slick, soap-covered fingers up and down his body.

It hadn't been the real Brianna who kissed him so deeply he couldn't think, who slipped her hand under the waistband of his pants and would have done more had he not remembered himself enough to stop her.

He should have realized the real Brianna, like all Wild Children, would be more reserved with someone she considered a stranger, and furthermore would limit the amount of physical affection she showed even to those she was close to. Only mates would be on the receiving end of true intimacies such as those she had shown him, and there was no way that, in such a short space of time, she would consider him her mate.

Or would she? He had told her otherwise, but now that he really thought about it, the true instinct of injured werewolves was to submit to those stronger than them, never presuming anything other than complete obedience. Brianna, in fact, had been anything but obedient, either protesting or outright ignoring him when he tried to hold her back.

If it hadn't been for her opiate-induced memory loss, what would her reaction have been that morning when the pain no longer held her in its grip? Alrik never questioned the righteousness of her indignation at waking up in the bed of a complete stranger—what female wouldn't? But, what if part of that indignation was feigned, because she was afraid there was a very good reason she had behaved as he claimed, and she simply couldn't remember it?

And it was this one point that checked his anger at her behavior before the other males this afternoon. He didn't understand it, and didn't know how to ask her about it—didn't know if she would even be able to give him an answer.

But still, to accuse him—in front of _witnesses, _when all this time, he never so much as—

Snarling, Alrik stomped downstairs into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.

He was glad she hadn't come back yet, because he didn't know if he wanted to throttle her or kiss her.

Knowing what he did about Brianna, she'd say or do something that caused him to do both, and God help him then.

_

* * *

It would be so easy to just leave, _Brianna thought as she watched the sun slip beneath the horizon. Just jack a boat, and head in any direction so long as it was away from Changer Island.

But life simply wasn't that easy. Yes, life wasn't a story, but it still needed endings and beginnings. You couldn't just leave things undone, otherwise they'd nag at you like a hangnail until the end of your days.

So. She had to go back. Face Alrik and have it out with him. Again, but this time, in the sensible, rational manner to which she knew she was capable of. Sometimes.

She sighed heavily, puffing her bangs up with the force of her breath. This was crazy. She should be able to have an actual conversation with someone where she calmly laid out all the reasons why she was angry with them. She'd done it before, hadn't she?

_Think about this, Stupid. When was the last time you had a major disagreement with someone that you absolutely _had _to work out? What did you do?_

Well, there was that time when she and Elizabeth—no, that didn't count. Getting mad at your twin for taking the last piece of chocolate cake when you'd eaten the rest of it just because you were hormonal wasn't anywhere near the same as this. This was serious. This was about moral principle.

Presley. That was it. The last big fight she'd gotten into was with Presley, over her continued harassment of Sophia Donner.

Brianna had, with all good intentions, tried to explain to Presley that continuing to pick on Sophia wasn't the most politic thing to do. Well aware of Presley's true feelings on the matter, she left out all mention of Luke's interest in the other female. So, instead, she pointed out that Sophia completing her Change meant she wasn't an ungulate, no matter who her mother was. On top of that, Sophia was more powerful than her, and one day, Presley was going to push Sophia too far. And then there was the fact that her father, Matthew Donner, though not official due to his own stubbornness, was kinda-sorta the Beta, the second-most powerful position in the Pack, whereas Presley's parents were middle-rankers.

Lastly, and more important in Brianna's mind, Sophia was a white wolf. No matter what else, that alone was enough to merit her more than a degree of respect from the rest of the Pack.

So, maybe—and this was just a thought on Brianna's part—Presley should, you know, back off?

Unfortunately, all Presley could see was Sophia stealing Luke away, which was not the most accurate interpretation of events. In fact, Presley had merely been convenient for Luke—lots of fun, a great lay, but no one he intended to settle down with. The sad thing was, Presley _did_ see that she was just a poor man's Sophia Donner. She just couldn't accept it.

Which was probably the reason why she flipped out on Brianna for daring to suggest they treat Sophia as anything other than the enemy.

So, there she had it. Her last big fight. And that was months ago—almost a year! She and Presley made up and went back to being friends. All she needed to do was remember how that happened, and—

Oh, yeah. _That _fight. That ended up being a real fight, not just a disagreement. Presley hadn't just lost her temper, she'd lost her self-control and attacked Brianna. Brianna, never having mastered the art of restraint—which Presley damn well knew and would have remembered if she hadn't been so crazy with emotional pain and imagined betrayal—lost it in turn and seriously hurt her best friend.

And then, apparently because it was typical of Wild Children, for her, that was it. Brianna didn't see the point of holding a grudge. They'd fought, Brianna won, Presley lost, and as far as she was concerned, the matter was done. Presley, not so much. It was something like a month before Presley would even speak to her, during which time Brianna was lonely and confused. Eventually, it was Presley who apologized, and said something else at the same time, maybe about why she was so upset, but Brianna was so happy to have her friend back she hadn't paid attention.

Which meant that Brianna had no idea what to do right now to patch things up with Alrik. Damnit.

_Stupid Wild Child ADD . . . Narcissist . . . thing._

Well, there was no going back to the Alpha's house without a plan of . . . attack wasn't really the most appropriate term. She tried that the first time, and look where she'd ended up.

Whatever. A plan. No point in going back without a plan. Or at least some kind of decent argument phrased in such a way that it didn't sound like she was accusing him of being a creepy, lying back-stabber, when, in fact, she totally was.

Sort of.

Damnit. Was that even what she thought anymore? What, exactly, was it, then?

_Hm. How about . . . sorry about accusing you of being a manipulative perve in front of your guys and making you look bad, even though I kinda still think that's what you are. Except, I also understand where you're coming from. Unless everything Ben told me was full of shit, which I'm not entirely certain wasn't, because he really reminds me of Sherman Blackstone, and most of the time, you need to take what he says with an entire _wheelbarrow_ of salt, and anyway, it totally sucks about you being lonely just because of who you are, and I really want to help, but I'm just not sure if being your mate is the best thing. Mostly, because, well, yeah, you're hot and funny and smart and basically everything I like in a guy, but damnit, it's only been a few days! Give me at least a month to make up my mind, or something. Can I have that? A month? Is that doable?_

Shit. Now she was babbling in her own thoughts.

It didn't help matters that she was starting to get cold. She'd think better if she were inside somewhere warm, preferably with a steaming cup of coffee. Except where? She'd already made up her mind to not go back to the Alpha's house. She didn't really know anyone here well enough to presume, except maybe Elise, and Elise was ardently loyal to Alrik. She might not be so welcoming at the moment.

Chuffing in annoyance, Brianna resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to spend the night outside, and began to strip.

* * *

The next day, Kit was more than happy to agree to a run with Elise and Ben. It seemed like ages since she'd flipped. Besides, any chance to explore the island, away from the apartment and café, was not to be passed up.

Since Changer Island was a werewolves-only community, there was no need to be careful about where and when you flipped, or what you did in either state. At any given time, wolves could be seen trotting down the main street, going about their business without a care in the world. In fact, the only place where clothing was insisted upon was the café, and only because Elise refused to Lysol the seats every single time a customer left.

So, when Niel picked up Sarah for her lesson, Elise and Kit quickly stripped out of their clothing and flipped in the apartment, then trotted out the pet door cut into the bottom panel of the door to the street. Ben was already waiting for them, and they trotted off down the street, hung a right after the credit union, and took the path that led toward the center of the island.

On the walk Elise had taken Kit, Sarah and Brianna on, they stuck mostly to the perimeter of the island. As she hadn't gotten a chance to see much, Kit wouldn't have minded sticking to the same route. However, Ben assured her that the center of the island had the best view, and that while the shores were fun, they were also a trap for unwary ankles.

*Better we stick to terrain more familiar to you,* he explained. Since it wasn't that major of an issue with her, Kit just shrugged and settled down to enjoy the outing.

As soon as they reached the tree line, about fifty yards from town, Ben and Elise broke into a run. Kit was startled by their sudden change in pace and stumbled a bit before catching up. Soon enough, she outstripped them, her long legs eating up the ground as she raced under the canopy of trees.

It was exhilarating. Kit nimbly leapt over a fallen tree, then quickly veered to her left to avoid a boulder jutting up out of the path. She'd known how much she missed this, but at the same time, couldn't believe she'd managed to go so long without demanding some time in her other skin.

Kit vaulted a stream, then burst through the trees into a clearing and skidded to a halt. Looking around, she realized she was alone, and cursed herself for her foolishness. Part of the condition of her running with the older werewolves was that she agree to stay with them at all times. They admitted it wasn't the most ideal situation for her first real opportunity to stretch all four legs. However, the situation with Gerik was such that they worried what might happen if he caught her out by herself.

Kit didn't argue with their logic; after all, she didn't want to get cornered by the Beta either. Well, at least not until she had a better idea of what she was getting herself into, that is. She sniffed quickly at the wind, and though she detected numerous scents of different werewolves, none were Gerik's. Still, she kept an eye on the trees and cast a mental thread out to Elise.

*I'm here! Sorry for leaving you behind.*

A chuckle rumbled through the thread, masculine in flavor. *Ah, serves us right for thinking we could hold you back when you've been cooped up too long,* Ben interjected. *Stay where you are. We'll be there soon.*

Kit settled down to wait, but soon enough was rolling in the grass, filling her nose with its scent, and reveling in the warm sunlight on her stomach. Though it was already November and technically the middle of the Puget Sound's rainy season, the sky was blissfully clear, and her coat, already having grown thick in preparation for the winter, kept her warm enough to enjoy every minute of it.

*Fore!* sounded a female in her head. Kit looked up just in time to see Brianna, also in her wolf form, fly through the air at her. She ducked and braced herself for impact, but the other female pulled herself up in time and landed on her with surprising gentleness. They tumbled across the grass, then play-fought for a few minutes before Brianna broke it off.

*Glad to see you outside for once,* she commented as she licked the fur on her foreleg back into place.

*No more than me,* Kit replied, and sighed happily.

*So, has there been some recent development that you don't need to be worried about big, bad Gerik anymore?*

*Nope. That's still on. Technically, I'm being chaperoned by Elise and Ben, but I accidentally got away from them.* Brianna snickered mentally. *No, it really was an accident,* Kit protested. *And what about you? What happened after you left yesterday?*

Brianna whined, then made a snuffly-grumbly noise that Kit couldn't quite interpret.

*What do you think happened? I unplugged my brain, said a bunch of things I should have stated a different way, then ran off. Now, I'm just trying to figure out how to find a good way to apologize without actually apologizing.*

Kit sat up straight and blinked rapidly at Brianna.

*Are you saying you haven't been back since yesterday?* she demanded incredulously. Brianna shrugged.

*Pretty much. It got cold, so I flipped and went for a run. I figured I might have a better chance coming up with something if I wasn't actively trying to think about it, you know? And then the time got away from me, so I just holed up here in the woods. I meant to go back this morning, but kept getting distracted by chipmunks.* Kit snorted with laughter. *What can I say? They're my secret vice. It's not like you don't have any, Miss I-Put-Danielle-Steel's-Kids-Through-College.*

* I only read a couple of them,* she refuted, *and it was simply out of curiosity to see how many euphemisms for 'penis' she could come up with.*

*Tell yourself that enough times and maybe one day it'll be true,* scoffed Brianna. *Anyway, I was going to head back, but then I saw you. I guess I can keep you company for a little while longer, just so the boogeyman doesn't get you.*

*Gee, thanks. Whatever would I do without you to protect me?*

* * *

The house was still empty when Alrik awoke. Initially, he figured that Brianna must have come in after he fell asleep, then left again early that morning, so decided to take the opportunity to enjoy the peace and quiet for once.

However, when several hours went by and there was still no sign of her, he felt a twinge of concern. He pushed it aside, though, and concentrated on catching up on the work he'd neglected yesterday.

When noon came and went with still no Brianna, he couldn't just brush aside his worry. So, he indulged himself and checked around the house. All signs indicated that she hadn't even returned after she stormed off yesterday, and his worry bloomed into full-blown panic.

Brianna wasn't an idiot, otherwise he wouldn't have allowed her to walk all the way to the café by herself. Of course, it was a straight shot from the Alpha's house into town. But, if she truly wanted to "go kill something," as she claimed, she would have stayed away from the town and headed out into the woods, which she didn't know so well.

The topography of the island wasn't particularly dangerous, but there were a few tricky spots that could catch out an unwary werewolf, especially one unfamiliar to the territory who might not have been thinking clearly due to being in the grip of her emotions. Werewolves weren't invincible; accidents could and did happen all the time.

Alrik forced himself to calm down. If she'd been hurt, she would have called for help. _Unless she was knocked out. _Alrik squashed that thought and forced himself to expand his consciousness across the island.

Nothing.

Shit.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted his focus to the land. _Brianna, _he whispered.

The land was silent.

_Brianna, _he whispered again, putting more force into it.

Still the land had no answer for him.

_Brianna! _he howled, letting his power rip through the island. At the back of his mind, he felt the Pack shudder, but continued to focus on the land.

It was as if she had never been.

Swearing viciously, Alrik concluded the land was hiding her from him, though why, he couldn't fathom. He flipped into his other skin and headed out. It appeared he would have to find her the hard way. He only hoped she was still in one piece when he did, if only so he could rip her apart for scaring him so badly.

* * *

The burst of Alrik's power knocked Elise and Ben off their feet, but it wasn't too long before they were back up and flat-out galloping in the direction of Kit's last communication. Though they knew what their Alpha was capable of, neither had ever felt the young male unleash so much at once. That could only mean something bad had happened, and the sooner they rounded up their charge, the sooner they could all get to safety.

When they arrived in the small clearing, they spotted Kit laying in the grass with an unfamiliar wolf. They dashed up to the two of them, Ben taking the front and putting himself between her and the stranger. Within seconds, however, he realized his mistake and backed down. What with being unsettled from the Alpha's power and never having seen Brianna in her other skin, it was a natural mistake to make.

Quickly, he and Elise explained the situation to the two females, apologizing to Kit for having to cut their run short. She assured them she understood, and stood up, shaking herself to resettle her fur.

*Hurry up! How can you be so relaxed?* wondered Elise at Kit's seeming nonchalance. The older female didn't even bother to hide her anxiety, so upset was she.

*Sorry,* Kit apologized and quit fussing. *I don't doubt you that something's wrong, but I just didn't feel anything.*

*Neither did I,* added Brianna, as she, too, rose. *Doesn't mean we aren't taking this seriously. Should I come to the café with you, or do you think it'd be better for me to get back to the Alpha's house?*

*Go to Alrik,* Ben directed. *In spite of your recent discord, your presence may have a calming effect that will help him to think clearly.*

*Are you sure?" Elise ventured. *Worry over her safety may distract him at a critical moment.*

*Bah. She can take care of herself, and Alrik knows this,* he scoffed. *Besides, he'd be more distracted if she wasn't someplace where he could see her. Go now.*

Brianna ducked her head in acknowledgement, turned and ran back into the trees. Senses wide so he could keep track of her, Ben waited until she reached the property line of the Alpha's house—and thus within Alrik's protective wards—before herding his two females back into town.

* * *

The wave of power crashed into Sarah. Her head fell back and mouth hung open in a silent scream as she was paralyzed from incomprehension and terror. Immediately, a softer blanket of power wrapped itself around her, and she heard Niel's voice in her head, urging her to breathe.

"That's it," he soothed. "In and out. Big, slow breaths."

Guided by his calm, steady voice, she managed to bring herself under control.

"What . . . that . . ."

"Don't think about it," he ordered gently as he grasped her under the arms and lifted her to her feet. "Everything's going to be just fine. Just keep breathing." He slipped one arm around her waist and urged her to walk. "One foot in front of the other. That's right. Just like that. Walk it off."

She stumbled several times, but eventually got her legs working again. By the time they were halfway back to the café, all she needed was the minute support of Niel's hand under her elbow. Nevertheless, she'd never been so happy to see Elise when they finally arrived, and willingly surrendered herself to the smothering attentions of the older female.

* * *

Gerik never thought he'd be grateful for his crappy generator until it punked out right before Alrik's power hit him, otherwise the circular saw he'd been using might have taken off a finger. Sure, he'd grow it back eventually, but it would still be a long, painful process.

He didn't bother to pick himself up off the floor, and instead turned his head in the direction of the power's origin. Quickly, he shifted his focus until his concentration was wholly with the land, then cast his mind to the Alpha's house.

All seemed peaceful there now, but there were recent traces of distress. Alrik's.

He searched for Alrik's signature, and found it moving, though not as rapidly as Gerik would have thought, given the emotions he could sense. The younger male was headed down toward the shoreline, and Gerik could have sworn he was weaving back and forth across a wide swath of land. Gingerly, so as not to disturb him any more than he already was, Gerik reached out to his Alpha.

*Alrik? What's going on? What happened?*

*I can't find her,* came the reply, and from the feel of it, he was frantic.

*Her?* Gerik probed.

*Brianna! She never came home, and I couldn't locate her anywhere on the island, no matter how hard I tried. I think something has happened to her.*

_Or she's run away, _he thought privately. He wouldn't have pegged Brianna Young as one who would tuck tail and run, but she had had a rough few weeks. People did strange things when they felt backed into a corner, and a Wild Child would be more unpredictable than most.

*So what exactly are you doing?* he asked through their connection.

*Tracking her by scent!* snarled Alrik. *Are you going to keep asking me stupid questions, or are you actually going to help?*

*Alright, alright. Don't get your tail in a knot. Did you ask anyone if they'd seen her?*

He felt Alrik pause as he considered the question, and then a tinge of embarrassment emanated from the younger male. Gerik suppressed a desire to laugh.

*Tell you what—keep tracking her. _I'll _ask around. After that burst, everyone's going to be on edge if they hear direct from you.* The feeling of embarrassment intensified. *Don't worry. I promise not to tell.*

* * *

The Alpha's house was empty by the time Brianna reached it, but she could detect traces of Alrik's unrest. He didn't seem to be the type to lose his cool that easily, yesterday notwithstanding, so whatever happened had to be bad.

She raced upstairs to her room, where she flipped back into her human form. Given the urgency of the situation, she rushed the transformation, which left her disoriented for a few minutes. Once it passed, she rifled through her clothes until she located a loose sleeveless dress that wouldn't restrict her movements and could easily be gotten out of in her wolf form if she had to flip again, then pulled her hair up into a ponytail. No telling what she might be facing, but she needed to be prepared for any eventuality.

That done, Brianna forced herself to slow down and get a better grip on the situation. She sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, placed her feet flat on the floor and rested her hands on her knees. She closed her eyes and took several deep, even breaths to center herself, gathered her power, then unleashed it in a slow, steady pulse.

As it swept across the island, her power touched the minds of each werewolf it came across. The predominant emotions she sensed were anxiety and confusion, but there was no indication that anything was wrong. Puzzled, she focused on the spaces in between the Pack members' consciousnesses, seeking some outside force. Nothing.

Eventually, she brushed against Gerik, and took a moment to switch her mental frequency before making the connection and ask what had happened. He sounded relieved to hear from her, and, oddly enough, amused. The Beta told her to stay put.

Easily done. Brianna had no intention of going anywhere until someone told her what was going on. She broke the connection and searched for Alrik. It took her a little longer to find him, and she hesitated before attempting to link with him, mindful of Elise's concern that she might distract him. When she determined that he was alone and not using any of his own power, she switched her mental frequency again.

*Alrik?* she asked.

*Brianna!* His storm of emotions made her wince. *Where are you?* he demanded.

*I'm at the house,* she replied. *What—*

*Don't move,* he ordered. *I'll be right there.*

He broke the connection, and, confused, Brianna reeled her power back in. She shook her head to clear it, then went back downstairs to wait. Her patience lasted all of three minutes before she felt the need to do something, anything, or else risk losing her mind. She went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. No matter what happened, it appeared that they had some breathing room, and a cup of coffee would be just what Alrik needed. Hopefully, he would be distracted enough he wouldn't think to comment on her having one, as well. After all, it had been a whole twenty-four hours since she'd last indulged.

A crash that sounded like a door hitting the wall sent her running to the front of the house. Brianna skidded to a stop in the living room, where she gaped at the huge wolf in the foyer.

The wolf reared up on its hind legs, and before she could blink, twisted into the shape of a male human.

Alrik strode across the floor, grabbed Brianna by her shoulders and hauled her up to eye level.

"Where have you been?" he roared. All she could do was open and close her mouth like a fish gasping for air. "Well? Answer me!"

"What the _fuck, _Alrik!" she screeched. "You're white!"


	13. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Once he was sure Alrik had returned to the Alpha's house, Gerik redirected his focus to the rest of the Pack, reassuring each of them that the crisis was over. He didn't specify what that crisis was, guessing that neither Alrik nor Brianna would thank him for airing the details of their personal lives to all and sundry. After all, the Pack's gossiping had gotten them all into this mess in the first place.

Speaking of which, Gerik thought it might be worth suggesting to everyone that they back off discussing Brianna becoming the Alpha Female, even amongst themselves. It might appear a foregone conclusion, but in order to reach that happy conclusion, Brianna needed to feel as if she had the freedom of choice.

Gerik quickly showered and changed out of his work clothes, then made his way into town. Most people would need the comfort of their fellow Pack members at the moment, so it was likely the bulk of the Pack would gather at the Fræc Café. Technically, it was closed today, but he wouldn't be surprised if Elise made an exception.

And if the café would be jammed to the rafters, it was likely that Kit would be serving. His heart clenched in his chest when he thought of her, and he didn't know if he was looking forward to seeing her again, or dreading it.

He hadn't been just talking out of his ass when he told her he'd never wanted anyone as much as he did her. He still did. The problem was, whenever he was in her presence, his instinct to possess her overwhelmed his common sense, and he wound up acting like a brute. Then, when he was away from her and rational thought held sway, he couldn't help but wonder in disgust at his own behavior.

Like all Alphas, Gerik was born into his caste, though what they were wasn't apparent until they completed the Change and survived their first flip, even to themselves. Nevertheless, Gerik always had the sense that he was different from the other members of the Pack he was born into. Things seemed to come a little easier for him—school, sports, friends, lovers. Additionally, even prior to Changing, he'd always felt a strong connection to the land, something else werewolves didn't feel until after they flipped, though they anticipated it, by virtue of their upbringing.

Either way, Gerik sensed that whatever it was about him that made him different was something that needed to have an eye kept on—increased strength may make it easier to protect and serve those around him, but if not handled carefully, it made it just as easy to hurt those same people, and Gerik never had any desire to hurt anyone.

So, he'd used his talents to carefully observe his fellow werewolves, measure their reactions toward him and one another, and learned how to interact with them in such a way to best put them at their ease. He quickly gained a reputation for being sensible, perceptive, and, most importantly, gentle, in spite of his strength. Those traits helped him even more when his caste showed itself after the Change, and he found himself to be one of several Alphas born into the same Pack.

The Pack's ruling Alpha wasn't particularly old, but years of fast living had taken a toll on his body. It was expected that he wouldn't live very long, so Gerik was thrown into the subtle competition for successor almost immediately. His rivals were his own brother, Henrik—whom everyone had always called "Hank," and the ruling Alpha's son, Torolf.

In the space of one day, Gerik's relationship with Hank went from a strong bond between brothers to one of fierce rivalry. What made it so bitter was the fact that their parents wanted Hank, the first born and favorite son, to take up the reins of leadership, but the Pack's land had other ideas. The land had rejected Hank as belonging to it once he completed the Change; a century before, when such things happened, the tradition was to supply the new werewolf with whatever he would need for his journey, wish him the best of luck, then firmly push him out of the territory. A Pack was doomed if its land wouldn't support it, and when that land was adamant about not wanting a particular member upon it, there was little a Pack could do except bow to its demands.

These days, Packs played a little loose with the land, allowing rejected members a few years to finish high school, attain what humans considered the age of majority to be, before sending them out into the world by themselves. The sky hadn't fallen on anyone that Gerik heard, so the general assumption was that the land understood its Pack's reasoning, and was willing to be flexible.

But that was all the land was willing to do. Failure to comply would—well, again the sky wouldn't come crashing down on you, but the land might swallow you whole, as it had not six months ago when a sinkhole suddenly opened up beneath Hank's feet, causing him to fall to his death.

The phone call had come early in the afternoon. Already short-tempered from failing to join the corners of a secretary he was building, he hadn't been pleased to hear his father's voice on the other end. It was the first time they had spoken since Gerik left Texas five years previously, when the old Alpha died and the Pack unanimously supported Hank's elevation. Since that would require Hank to stay, in direct violation of the wishes of the land, Gerik left in disgust, and his own family had made it clear that they were more than happy to see the back of him.

So, speaking with his father wasn't high on Gerik's list of things he most preferred to do, especially when the first thing the old male said to him was an order to get his tail back to Texas and take over leadership of the Pack.

"You want to say that again?" Gerik demanded. "Because, and I can't be too sure about this, but I do believe you just gave an order to an Alpha, which you most certainly have no right to do."

"Don't you take that tone with me, Boy," snapped his father. "You aren't so big I can't give you a hiding when you're asking for it."

"I'd love to see you try," he snorted, and hung up. The phone immediately started ringing again, but Gerik ignored it and went back to work.

Alrik showed up several hours later, bringing dinner along with a gripe about having his afternoon disturbed by a series of phone calls. The first three had been, again, from Gerik's father, and though Alrik was fairly laid back about a lot of things, his tolerance for egoistical nonsense was even less than his Beta's, especially when it came from perfect strangers. Eventually, someone got the message, because the next person to call was another older male, Samuel, who had been Beta to both the old Alpha and Henrik.

"This Samuel claims he tried to contact you as well, but you didn't answer," Alrik pointed out.

"I figured he might rear his head," admitted Gerik, "but considering that it'd just be more of the same, I didn't bother speaking with him."

"Well, you weren't entirely mistaken, but he at least had the sense to assume a more respectful tone when speaking to me. He has formerly requested that I release you from your duties here so you can return and take up leadership of the Thicket Pack, adding 'as was his right alone when our former Alpha passed on', in what sounded like a sop to your vanity."

Samuel had explained a few more things to Alrik, who passed it on to his Beta, preferring to have all the facts before ultimately making up his mind.

"You know I won't hold you here if this is what you want," he added. "For all my ability to control other Alphas, I'm not a totalitarian."

Gerik had snorted at that, though not in any attempt to mock his Alpha. Alrik knew damn well that the Thicket Pack was in a world of trouble, all which it had brought down on itself. The land was angry with the blatant disregard of its wishes, and acting accordingly. Gerik wasn't sure that going back would do anything to ease it, but was positive that the Pack was treating their current misfortunes as the results of a mere temper tantrum, with Gerik being the piece of candy that would make the land shut up so they could continue doing what they wanted to. Whether it was true or not was irrelevant; no Alpha would take on that mess unless he absolutely had to, and Gerik, thankfully, was not in so dire a position.

No, he had managed to build a life for himself here on Changer Island that matched what he thought of himself, and no way was he going to give it all up to spend the rest of his days fighting a bunch of blowhards who thought he should jump whenever they snapped their fingers.

And then he met Kit, which provided even more incentive for him to stay. If he could only bring himself under wraps and behave as he knew he was damn well capable of.

It should have been ideal situation; she was exactly what he'd been looking for—a strong, kind female who, to all appearances, would welcome the stability and respect he offered. She certainly hadn't gotten any of that from her old Pack, and here, where no one really knew her and all they had to go on was her potential, stability and respect were hers for the taking. Especially since, in the short time that she'd actually been on the island, all she'd shown was that she was hard-working and level-headed.

By rights, he should have approached her as any male would a female. Expressed his interest in her with all due consideration toward her rank and ability, then waited until she made the next move. Gerik truly believed that that was more than just the right way to do things; it was the only way. It was the way Alrik was handling his interest in Brianna, in spite of the expectations of the Pack. And yet he found himself pushing Kit again and again, breaking every rule in the book, simply because he couldn't stop himself.

Sooner than he would have liked, the path merged with the main street, and the café loomed at the end of it. As he suspected, the lights were on, signaling to all and sundry that Elise had opened for business. Through the windows, he could see that a large crowd already had gathered.

Nothing for it then. He'd just have to focus on the matter at hand—settling down the Pack and undoing assuring them all was right with their home and their Alpha. Hopefully, that would be enough to distract him from the object of his obsession.

For at least an hour, anyway.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what you've put me through?" Alrik ground out. "I have been going out of mind looking for you! Now for the last time, _where have you been?"_

"You're white! You're male, and you're white!" she babbled, her eyes wide. "How can you be male and white at the same time?"

It finally penetrated Alrik's brain that Brianna wasn't paying attention to him, so he shook her to jerk her back to the matter at hand.

"I just went for a run! That's it! Now would you please let me go?" she begged, squirming in his grip. Her frightened tone made him flinch, and he involuntarily released her. Brianna's legs gave out under her, and she landed heavily on the floor. She scrambled backwards until she bumped up against the stairs. The line of her body was taut with fear, and loudly promised to shred anyone or thing that got too close.

Immediately, Alrik's anger dissipated in the face of her terror, and he slumped with exhaustion, physical and emotional. No matter how hard he tried, everything he did seemed to upset her, and for a moment, he considered giving up. Just turning around and walking out, forgetting everything he hoped for the two of them.

But it was a momentary lapse; Alrik's nature was too inclined toward problem-solving for that. _Set her fears at rest, _he told himself, _and you'll get the answers you want._

"Brianna, what are you talking about?" he asked tiredly.

"You're white," she repeated in a hoarse whisper. "Your pelt. It's white. It's not supposed to be white."

"Why not?" he wondered, completely at sea. Brianna stared at him as if he'd grown a third head in addition to the second he apparently sprouted only a minute before.

"The legends," she finally said. "They've always been about female white wolves. There's no record of a male white wolf anywhere."

Now he was totally lost. Legends? "What legends?"

"About the white wolves!" Brianna shouted at him. "Quit playing around and just tell me what this means! Is this because you're this Moon Lord person?"

Alrik groaned. Somehow, in addition to all the other things he wanted to tell her himself, she'd heard of that from someone else.

"Lord of the Moon," he corrected. "It's just a stupid name given to any Alpha who has the additional ability to bind other Alphas to him. Brianna, white is just a color. It doesn't mean anything."

She shook her head slowly in disbelief. "You're lying. Wolf Lake has two white females—_two. _I've seen them. _ I grew up with them. _And they're the most powerful wolves in the entire Pack. Stronger than any of the males, even. They can do things that no one else can do. That's why whatever male they mate becomes the Alpha. They're all like that. The legends say so."

Alrik's mouth hung open in shock. It was the biggest line of crap he'd ever heard, and doubted it would ever be surpassed, even if he lived to be 150 years old.

And yet Brianna wasn't lying. Her scent, her expression, the position of her body—she believed it with every fiber of her being.

Alrik sank to his knees and forced his body to go limp in an attempt to reassure her he meant no harm. Nevertheless, she still flinched when he crawled closer to her. He stopped immediately, and sighed heavily as he rocked back onto his feet.

"Brianna, they're white because they're my cousins. It's a common pelt coloration in our family."

"What?"

"I assume you're talking about Ruby Cates and Sophia Donner, right?" At her slow nod, he continued. "Ruby Cates's mother was my father's sister. Sophia Donner's grandmother was my grandfather's cousin—they shared the same grandmother. She was white—I think her brother was white, too. My grandfather's brother was white. Both my father and his sister are white. It's not a big surprise that two females descended from the same line as me would be white. That still doesn't mean anything."

"But . . . you're all so strong . . ."

"Actually, no. My aunt—not Ruby's mother, my other aunt—she's not all that much stronger than Sarah Hollander, and if anything, her coat's whiter than mine. Any kind of power that we have is just a coincidence. There are plenty of non-white werewolves who have done and continue to do amazing things. There's an Alpha in New Hampshire that has the most boring pelt coloration I've ever seen, and his abilities are damn near equivalent to mine. Who told you these 'legends'?"

"Everyone," she replied in a small voice. "It's one of the first stories they tell us, about how the white wolf brought us to Wolf Lake, and helped us settle the town and . . . survive . . . oh, God. The agreement between our Packs . . . that was your ancestor, wasn't it?"

"I'd need the specifics, but yeah, it sounds like it."

Brianna shook her head in denial, still unable to accept what he was telling her. "No," she refuted. "It can't be. Sherman Blackstone has been Wolf Lake's Keeper since before there was a Wolf Lake. If it wasn't true, he wouldn't . . . He's ancient. He'd know."

"This is what I do know," Alrik said. "The Pack that founded Wolf Lake was made up of werewolves from many different Packs. When they came here, yes, Sherman Blackstone was with them, and they did call him their Keeper. However, he has been associated with different Packs throughout the centuries. He just picks one and stays with them for awhile, then moves on when the mood strikes him. Anyway, he's the one who approached Changer Island with the idea for an alliance in the first place. He's the one who laid out the terms, and talked everyone into accepting them. Why he's decided to withhold this from current generations, I don't know. That's part of the arrangement between the Packs—Changer Island doesn't interfere with the day-to-day life of Wolf Lake. I can ask him, but if he doesn't want to tell me, he doesn't have to."

Not that that would stop Alrik from prying the truth out of the old Keeper using whatever means necessary. Having his desired mate so terrified of him because of his pelt coloration that he couldn't get near her—especially when only the day before, she'd had no trouble publicly humiliating him over a simple miscommunication—was intolerable. Sherman Blackstone might have been the genius behind the treaty between Wolf Lake and Changer Island, but what was done was done; the Changer Island Alpha held sovereignty over both Packs, and he had a right to some answers.

As soon as he could get Brianna to calm down enough that she wasn't in danger of hyperventilating.

"Brianna, this doesn't change anything," Alrik reassured her. "Forget what everyone else wants. Forget what I want. You still have the right to accept or reject me. You will always have that right, no matter what either of us are. In this, we're just like everyone else—a male and a female trying to figure out what's best for ourselves. It doesn't matter who we are or what we look like. And no matter what you decide, nothing is going to change. We'll still be just the same. I promise."

Brianna stared at him, trepidation sharp in her eyes, then ever so slowly, reached out and took the hand he offered.

* * *

Kit watched Gerik make the rounds in the café, pausing at each table to talk with and reassure each Pack member that all was well. She'd had a moment of panic when he first walked in, but forced herself to deal with it.

_Don't be such a coward. It's a small island. You're going to run into one another eventually._

Besides, if he lost his head and tried anything, there was a room filled with werewolves ready to help defend her. She hoped.

Alrik and Brianna's potential relationship wasn't the only gossip flying around Changer Island. Unlike Brianna, however, Kit wasn't insulated from it. She was well aware that everyone knew something was going on between her and the Beta, and, since there wasn't a big, scary Alpha to keep them on their best behavior, they felt free to ask her for regular status updates.

So far, she'd managed to fend them off with the same pat speech that was, more or less, the truth: that there had been a _slight_ misunderstanding between her and Gerik, and yes, it had been sorted out. No, she didn't know what his intentions were, as he had never voiced them in her presence (also technically true; he'd just said he wanted her, but didn't specify in what exact capacity or for how long). If courtship was what he intended, then yes, she would give it due consideration. Yes, she was fully aware of how great an honor it was, considering he was the Pack Beta and an Alpha in his own right.

Yes, he certainly was very handsome.

As a Morris, Kit was used to having her every action scrutinized. Just not in quite so benevolent a light. She was starting to wonder which she preferred.

The service bell rang, and Kit went to pick up the latest order. Elise was waiting at the window, and placed her hand on top of Kit's when she reached for the plate.

"Everything alright?" she asked, her voice deceptively light. Here was one person who didn't view the situation with amusement. It was a small comfort, but at least it felt as if someone were trying to look out for her best interests.

"Everything's fine," Kit confirmed. "We're all keeping very busy."

"Alright then. You let me know if that changes."

Kit nodded and took the order, delivered it to the correct table, then scurried back to the counter when Gerik came a little too close. To mask her cowardice, she picked up the pot of coffee and made the rounds, starting her circuit on the opposite side of the room as him. Yes, it was pathetic to allow him to intimidate her so, but she was proud that she managed to keep a cool enough head that no one seemed to notice. Or, at least, felt inclined to comment.

Of course, they had their own concerns today, for which she was thankful.

She didn't understand what the big deal was, though. Gerik had explained to everyone when he arrived: he hadn't heard from a few Pack members in a while, and, when he tried to find them, some quirk in the land prevented him from finding them. So, he overdid it a bit extending his power in his search for them. They had since been found, hale and hearty, so there was nothing to worry about.

Of course, Kit knew that the "few Pack members" actually was only one, and given the tense situation between them at the moment, it was reasonable that Alrik would get a teensy bit hysterical. However, Gerik's second declaration to the Pack—that they back off gossiping about Brianna's becoming the Alpha Female—meant that giving any hint that she knew that was completely out-of-bounds. She couldn't even discuss it with Elise and Ben, who, as far as she could tell, were completely discrete.

Kit returned to the service area behind the counter and began brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Elise had shown her how to use the different machines in order to satisfy the individual tastes of the Pack, but tonight, all anyone seemed to want was straight-up Americano, which suited Kit just fine. The last time she tried to use the big copper espresso machine . . .

Well, it was a good thing Elise had a distributer on call, though it would still take a few weeks for the replacement parts to arrive.

For the next hour, she busied herself taking and delivering orders, busing tables, filling coffee cups and, for the lone two tea fanatics, hot water carafes. She almost was able to forget that Gerik was even in the room, so busy were they that night. Unfortunately, it didn't look like things were going to slow down any time soon.

Elise had explained—and Kit had tried to understand—that though Changer Island adored its ruling Alpha, they were afraid of him, too. Alrik was a different sort of Alpha from others of the same caste; how, Elise hadn't specified, and had been so reticent on the subject, Kit didn't press the issue.

Of course, she already was overwhelmed by the idea that Alphas were something different than the rest of their species. She remembered hearing Gerik referred to as an Alpha, and, considering the position he held in the Pack, decided she must have misheard. "Alpha" was just the title for the werewolf leading a Pack, wasn't it? Granted, yes, there was this whole misogynistic view that only males could rule, but Vivian Cates had proved that wrong with her ascension and successful leadership of Wolf Lake. Right?

According to Elise and Ben, that wasn't the case at all. Alphas were born into the caste, though who was or was not an Alpha wasn't apparent until they completed the Change. It wasn't like Keepers, who could be trained into the position, though there definitely were those individuals who had an aptitude for it.

Kit had brought up Vivian Cates, and both the older werewolves scoffed.

"Vivian Cates can call herself whatever she wants, but it doesn't make it true," Ben declared. "Wolf Lake has never had a real Alpha, and the Pack there would have died out long ago if it weren't for ours."

At that, Kit demanded an explanation, and the whole story had come out. The tale was similar to the one she'd been raised on, but taken from the Changer Island perspective, had a whole different meaning. Totally dependent on the Changer Island Alpha's efforts to work with and maintain their land, the Wolf Lake Pack had cut itself off from the rest of the world, and grown stagnant.

"It doesn't surprise me that you were raised to believe that werewolves stick to the territory of their birth," Ben said. "Without an Alpha, your old Pack is very vulnerable, especially after all this time. However, its inflexibility is weakening it, as well. Luckily for them, the only Pack that might pose a threat is Changer Island, and we're too happy with our own little territory to think about expanding."

But what, exactly, did it mean to be an Alpha? That was a question neither Ben or Elise could answer to her satisfaction. It had something to do with how those individuals connected with the land, a concept Kit still found implausible. They assured her it was true, however, and that all werewolves could do it. Ben offered to show her how, which Kit briefly considered taking him up on, but then the banging on the door of the café altered them that the members of the Pack needed to be in each other's company that night, and Elise felt it necessary to oblige them.

It was a lot of information thrown at Kit all at once, and she would have liked a little time by herself to get it all straight in her head. But, the needs of the Pack superseded all, and what its members needed right now was the chance to forget that their ruling Alpha had scared the collective pants off them.

So far, it seemed to be working, albeit slowly.

"When you get a chance, can I have a refill?" a male voice asked. Kit looked up and down the counter. A werewolf a few years older than herself smiled as he waggled his cup at her. She smiled in return and grabbed the coffee pot.

"You doing okay here?" she asked.

"I am now that I've got you alone for a few seconds," he replied with a cheeky grin. Kit rolled her eyes good-humoredly.

"And what is it you need me for?" she wondered, playing obtuse. Obviously, he was flirting with her, and she took that as a sign that the Pack was taking her claim regarding her involvement with their Beta seriously. Otherwise, a male with such a shallower well of power than Gerik wouldn't have dared look at her.

"Well, I was thinking—if you wouldn't mind, of course—"

"Why would I mind it if you were thinking? My mother always said it was a good thing when a male decided to use his brain."

He chuckled, but chose to not respond to that and plowed ahead. "Anyway, you've been here a few weeks now, but we don't seem to know much about you. So, I was wondering if, maybe, you wouldn't mind going for a walk? I'd ask you out to dinner, but the options here on the island are pretty much restricted to the café, and I can't imagine that would impress you very much."

Kit leaned back and pretended to entertain the merits of the idea. "Hm . . . a walk."

"A _friendly _walk, just to get to know each other," he clarified.

"I don't know . . . would we have a chaperone? Because I'm an old-fashioned girl, and stepping out with a male whose name I don't even know, all by my lonesome . . . think of what it would do to my reputation."

He laughed, but it died in his throat as his focus shifted to a spot above her shoulder. Kit's smile faded as she realized what he was looking at. She'd been so preoccupied with the male, she hadn't sensed Gerik's approach.

"His name is Alec," the Beta informed her in a cold voice, "and I'm sure he wouldn't so much as dream of making any kind of request of you that might put you in an uncomfortable position."

Alec hastily agreed, thanked Kit for the coffee, dropped a few bills on the counter, and immediately left the café.

"Was that really necessary?" Kit demanded out as she turned to face Gerik.

"Yes," he replied, eyes shimmering gold with the strength of his emotions. "You and I haven't settled anything, so until then, you're off-limits."

"Don't I have a say in that?"

His nostrils flared briefly. "If course you do, but you haven't said anything yet. So until you do—" He broke off and cocked his head. Kit felt a buzzing at the back of her skull, and realized someone was speaking to Gerik on a private mental thread.

Gerik backed away from her and rounded the counter, calling for everyone's attention.

"The Alpha has asked me to inform you that—and he apologizes for not telling you this in person—he's decided to move up the date of the Fall hunting trip." A deafening cheer rang out from those assembled. "All those interested in going need to get their names to me by the end of today. The final list of hunters, along with what packs they will be assigned to, will be posted tomorrow. Be prepared to go the day after."


	14. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Alrik stood in the doorway of Brianna's room and watched her as she slept. The hunting party was due to leave within the hour; he needed to get into town to meet up with everyone and give a few last-minute instructions. He intended to wake Brianna and tell her he was leaving, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it just yet.

His night vision allowed him to see her clearly, even though the only illumination available crept in through the cracks between the shades and the windows. For once, she was at ease, the lines of her body and face smooth without the tension that had gripped her for the past three days. It made him want to climb into bed with her, if only to hold her and breathe in her scent, and allow his own frustrations ebb away.

After Alrik had gotten Brianna to relax long enough that he could approach her, he wrung a promise from her that she wouldn't disappear for so long without telling him where she was or what she intended. He did understand that Wild Children's need to connect with the land was stronger than that of other werewolves, and that it was incredibly easy for them to get caught up in the moment and turn what was intended to be an hour's communion into a day—or days—long indulgence. Even so, having an idea what she was up to would give him better peace of mind when she next disappeared.

Brianna agreed, and in spite of her distraction, he felt she was focused enough to understand why he was asking. He knew she wasn't used to having to account for herself to someone who demanded it out of concern for what might happen toher, rather than because of how her behavior might reflect on others. It amounted to a major difference, but at the same time, was so subtle it could easily be misconstrued. Alrik was grateful that she seemed to comprehend his meaning, when her history could have prompted a reaction that made the situation all that much worse.

Once that was settled, he was forced to endure her attempts to behave as if everything between them was normal. It was painfully obvious that was far from the truth, in spite of her claiming to accept that having a white pelt was not a sign of anything other than a heritable genetic trait restricted to affecting coloration. Again, it was something he could understand, based on her history: the myth had been shoved down her throat so completely her whole life that to quickly accept its invalidity was akin to expecting a Catholic priest to immediately believe proof that his god did not exist. The myth was more than just an entertaining legend of the people of her origin; it was justification for their entire existence.

Thus, to be confronted with a male white wolf, something that, in her mind, simply should not exist, and _then _to have to confront the fact that the validity of what she had been told was a purposeful misconstruction of the facts, would be too much to accept in so short a time span.

But she did at least try to pretend, and it hurt Alrik to see it, the way she forced herself to not flinch away when he approached her, or to keep her voice steady and look him in the eye whenever they spoke, as if she thought him no more different than any other.

It was the same behavior he saw every time he spoke to members of the Changer Island Pack, and he'd hoped things would be different between him and Brianna. Things _had _been different; her natural ability to resist being overpowered by him had been enough to level the field between them, and now it was all undone because of a ridiculous lie.

It only took a few hours for Alrik to realize Brianna needed time to adjust without worrying about running into him and feeling forced to pretend that she accepted him as he was. That the Pack had been clamoring for a hunting trip was the perfect excuse; she had proven herself enough that he trusted her to be able to cope with unfamiliar werewolves for a week while he led the hunters on the mainland. With the island emptied of half the Pack, the Alpha's house to herself and no responsibilities, it would give her plenty of space to become settled in her own mind.

He just hoped whatever resolution she decided upon—a resolution he would have no choice but to support, because it would be what she could live with—wouldn't end up being something that he could not.

So here he was, watching her in the repose he'd desired to see since she moved in with him, and painfully aware that this might be last time he could see her so. The future always held uncertainty for him, but never so much that he truly feared it. What would happen when he returned? Would all be well, or would it be the death of whatever potential future they may have had?

The sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor downstairs forced him to realize he was out of time. There was no place to go but forward, now, and let come what may. Alrik stepped into Brianna's room, crossed over to the bed, and gently shook her awake. Her eyes opened slowly, and she blinked in confusion before focusing on him.

"I'm leaving," he explained softly. "I'll see you in six days."

"Oh," she breathed, and stretched languidly. "Come here." Obligingly, he sat on the edge of the mattress and leaned over. Her arm snaked around his neck, and she leaned up and kissed him deeply. "Bring me something good," she whispered, then released him and fell back into sleep.

Alrik permitted himself a moment to sit there and gather his thoughts, which Brianna had, typically, scattered to the winds. Of all the reactions he expected from her, that definitely was not it.

* * *

Sarah didn't think she'd been so excited in her life. She was going on the hunt!

Normally, having never been much of a hunter, it wouldn't have excited her so much. However, in this case, joining the hunt meant not just a change of scenery, but that she actually was going to do something, instead of hang around Elise's apartment waiting for Niel to make time to tell her how incompetent she was.

When Gerik announced to the Pack that Alrik decided it was time for a hunting trip, Sarah immediately assumed that she would be among the Pack members left behind. After all, it wasn't as if she could contribute anything, right? But, the opportunity had given her an idea, and she asked Elise if, since there wouldn't be so many people that she might offend with her ignorance—her meaning, though she'd known better than to phrase it quite that way—she might be allowed to flip and roam the island. Chaperoned, of course, if that was what Elise thought best. Sarah had been extremely jealous that the older female had taken Kit for a run, as well as hurt that it was planned in such a way to purposely exclude her.

To her surprise, Elise informed her that Niel thought the hunt a good opportunity to test Sarah as to how much she'd improved, both in behavior and skills. Since both the Alpha and Beta would be present, it was unlikely anything mistakes she made would have the chance to escalate into a disaster.

Sarah had been so stunned by the news that she wasn't sure how to respond. On the one hand, she would actually be allowed to interact with her new Pack members. Confined to the apartment, she'd been starved for company. Elise and Kit generally were so exhausted from working in the café all day that they didn't have any energy to spare to entertain her, and it was apparent the only reason the Keeper had anything to do with her at all was due to the need to educate her. Otherwise, Sarah was certain he wouldn't have given her the time of day. The only other werewolf on the island Sarah knew was Brianna, whom she was more than happy to avoid.

Their fight two weeks ago aside, Sarah had never liked the other female. It went beyond Brianna's strangeness, which Sarah only knew about because she'd overheard her parents talking about it. Brianna was, and always had been, just plain mean. Sarah would have put up with her if it meant she got to be included in the upper ranks of the younger members of the Wolf Lake Pack, but that didn't mean she would have enjoyed it.

Which was another good thing about the hunt—Brianna wasn't going. Or Niel, for that matter. The Keeper was remaining behind to manage the Pack. No one seemed to know why Brianna was staying, at least not that they spoke of around Sarah. She didn't care, though. All that was important was six whole days away from the two people who were the current bane of her existence.

On the other hand, there was the Alpha to contend with. Elise told her that the hunters would be divided into two groups and spread out over the Olympic national park; the Alpha would head up one and the Beta another. Sarah really hoped that she didn't get assigned to the Alpha's group.

Since that burst of power two days ago, Sarah's initial fear of him had escalated into full-blow terror. It was all very well for the other werewolves to think he was a perfectly nice male, and an excellent leader in spite of his age. They were stronger than her; they probably shrugged off his power as if it were nothing more irritating than a puff of wind. For her, it was as if someone had not only shoved her into the deepest, coldest part of Wolf Lake, but then held her under in an attempt to drown her. She knew that hadn't been the Alpha's intention, though no one knew what that really was, but all the same, the thought of having to endure his presence continuously over the space of six days, even in the company of other werewolves, was enough to make her want to run screaming.

And then there was the fact that there really wasn't anything Sarah could do on the hunt. It was all very well for Niel to view this as an opportunity to gauge how well she behaved toward the others, but what about their behavior toward her? It wouldn't take long for them to realize she was dead weight; the question was, would they be content to allow her the simple joy of running at the back, or would they reject her completely for her inexperience?

Not for the first time in recent weeks, Sarah wished her parents had been a little more thorough in her education. It was all very well for them to tell her to focus her energy on inserting herself into the Pack hierarchy, but how was she supposed to do that if her fellow members scorned her for not being able to do things even a newly-flipped werewolf could do? There wasn't a single business designed to support the entire Pack. Everyone had their own career, and the Alpha took the responsibility of investing whatever extra income they had. As a result, everyone was well-off, and everyone had their own interest. There was no competition for power or wealth, which meant hierarchy was established solely on personal strength, intelligence, and ability.

Sarah wasn't anything anyone would call strong; as for intelligence, well, she'd always managed to receive good grades in school, but she hadn't even gotten the chance to graduate. She wasn't prepared to support herself, something that had been weighing on her ever since coming to Changer Island. Brianna had her writing career, and Kit was a waitress. All Sarah seemed fit for was living on the largess of the Pack, and while the Pack didn't seem to mind supporting her, its generosity wouldn't last forever.

She could take a mate—she'd have to eventually, since that was the whole point of her being here—but then she'd just be living off him. Though she hadn't had the chance to observe the Pack's interactions, she still got the impression from listening to Kit and Elise talk that most males here weren't interested in females who didn't know how to pull their own weight. Given how easy their lives were, there wasn't a need for clear delineation of family responsibilities, so a housewife wasn't desirable. So, if she could even get a mate in the first place, Sarah would quickly find herself in the same bind; not being valued because there was nothing she could contribute.

Well, she might not be able to do anything to improve her innate strength or intelligence, but she could damn well do something about her abilities. Sarah was sharp enough to know that it would take awhile to improve those, but thought that if she kept at it, the attempt would reflect well on her. And, in time, even if she didn't own her own business like Elise, or was an artisan carpenter or fancy potter, she would have something to offer.

* * *

The Pack members going on the hunt assembled in front of the small general store where the vans were waiting to transport them. Since they would be spending most of their time in their wolf skins, each brought only a small bag with two changes of clothes and some toiletries.

Alrik finally arrived and gave them all his last-minute instructions. The groups loaded themselves into the appropriate vans, and then they were off.

The journey to the mainland to the Olympic peninsula wasn't a particularly long one, only a few hours, but Alrik's group had farther to go, and in order to maximize their use of time, they setting out in the early hours of the morning.

To start with, the vans were loaded on the small private ferry that shuttled the inhabitants of Changer Island back and forth to the Kitsap peninsula. The ride took about thirty minutes, and then it was just a matter of hopping onto Route 104, crossing a bridge separating the Kitsap and Olympic peninsulas, and driving inland until they reached the national forest.

The plan was that the vans would separate when 104 merged with 101, each team going its own direction, so as to lessen the amount of game they took in any one place. There was wildlife on Changer Island, but it was such a small, isolated territory that the Pack had been forbidden from doing any hunting beyond the occasional kill to prevent eradicating the native populations.

All this was explained to Sarah by male a few years older than herself who hadn't seemed surprised by her questions.

"Then why do we even bother living on it?" she wondered. "Why not just move to the Olympic peninsula?" That werewolves couldn't hunt whenever the felt like it was unfathomable to her. It seemed that the whole point of living in a private community would be to allow them to act on their instincts, not purposely put themselves in a situation where they had to rein them in.

"It's what the land wants," the male replied, shrugging. "We may not be able to eat fresh meat as often as we'd like to, but you learn to put up with it. Besides, if you really need something fresh, there are no restrictions on fish." Sarah wrinkled her nose, and he laughed.

"So how does this work, then?" she asked. "Do we just throw our kills in the backs of the van and head home?" She didn't think it was quite that easy—rather, she hoped it wasn't—but still had no clue how they would get enough meat back to the island to feed everyone.

"No," the male said, laughing harder. "The Pack owns several large properties at the edge of the national park, all which have a large building devoted to the hanging and dressing of our kills. Our group will divide up again when we get there. One will go out hunting, while the other stays behind and dresses the kills. Then, the next day, we switch. The tricky thing is getting around the park rangers and hunting regulations. Obviously, they don't stop us when we're hunting—we just look like wolves. However, that doesn't stop them from catching us back at the compound dressing way more meat per person than human law allows."

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. Since the Pack in Wolf Lake controlled the entire county, there was no need to worry about hunting laws, especially since werewolves never hunted for trophies, anyway. They might enjoy the chase and the kill, and they certainly bragged about the more impressive animals they took, but every bit of their prey was consumed, so hunting wasn't something everyone did every weekend.

And then came the question Sarah had been dreading.

"So, what do you prefer to hunt?" the male asked conversationally. Sarah couldn't stop herself from shrinking down under his gaze. "What?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as to how his question could have upset her.

"I'm not really that good at hunting," she mumbled. "I just sort of run along at the back. And I've never dressed a kill before, so . . ." she trailed off, miserable at having to admit to her own ignorance.

"Oh," he said lamely, his face reddening slightly as he realized he'd embarrassed her. "It's not that hard," he attempted to reassure her. " Someone'll show you. And running behind, well . . . that's okay. I guess."

The conversation died and they remained silent for the rest of the journey.

* * *

"He's _what?" _Elizabeth exclaimed over the phone.

"He's a white male," Brianna repeated and took a sip of her coffee.

After Alrik woke her, Brianna had gone back to sleep. Then, around nine o'clock, she was jolted awake by the realization that she'd kissed him. _She _kissed _him, _not the other way around, and she couldn't even begin to understand why she would do such a thing.

There were females who liked to play games with males, lead them on and confuse them as to their true intentions. Some of the younger Wolf Lake Pack thought that's what Sophia was doing with Luke, and it remained one of the reasons why no one had pushed her to assume her rightful place.

Brianna wasn't one of those females. She didn't understand the motivation behind it, and though she had plenty of her own wicked impulses, leading on a male wasn't one of them. If you didn't like a male, if you thought he was too forward, or too presumptuous, then you informed him of his mistake immediately. Pretending you agreed with his opinion of himself, even for a short time, just to make him look even more foolish in the end, was just plain cruel, and served no purpose other than to satisfy your own sadistic nature.

Anyway, the point was, whatever had led her to act so familiarly with Alrik without checking in with her brain first had just made their situation all that much harder. At a loss for what to do about it, Brianna did what she'd been putting off for weeks now—call her sister Elizabeth.

Not that she didn't want to talk to her twin. They may not have moved in the same circles, but the reality was, no matter how close she and Presley had been, Elizabeth was Brianna's true best friend. Furthermore, they'd always gone to one another first for advice, finding that their vastly different personalities could provide insight into a situation that was overlooked.

She'd put the call off simply because it hurt too much to think about her twin. That they might never see one another again, grow up and mate and have children that they'd never know about except through phone calls and emails. It was the hardest thing about being forced to relocate to a different pack—they might only be two hundred miles away, a meaningless distance in the Twenty-First Century, but for werewolves, they might as well have been living in the Dark Ages.

Still, Elizabeth was her best bet for getting a grip on a situation that had spun out of control a long time ago, and was now merrily spiraling down into unsalvageable chaos.

First, though, she had to fill her in on everything, and that meant the advice-giving portion of their conversation was going to have to take a backseat to other, more shocking revelations.

"Are you actually claiming that the super-awesome Alpha of your new Pack, who totally has the hots for you, is something that's not even supposed to be possible?" Elizabeth demanded.

"That's right," Brianna confirmed.

"Are you sure? I mean, you weren't drunk at the time, right? Only I've heard people can hallucinate when they drink too much."

Brianna sighed in annoyance. Elizabeth wasn't exactly a teetotaler, but she still didn't approve of the fast living most of the werewolves their age, Brianna included, indulged in.

"No, I wasn't drunk," she stated, "and you can't hallucinate when you drink. Your vision just gets messed up, and you see doubles."

"So your vision could have gotten screwed up and made you think his pelt was white."

"I guess, except for the part where I was, you know, _not drunk._ Besides, he confirmed it when he flipped. As in, 'why yes, Brianna, I most certainly do have a white pelt in my other form. You didn't imagine that at all, so feel free to have your psychotic break'."

"Well, what does it mean?" wondered Elizabeth. Brianna left out the part about Alrik being some kind of über-Alpha, figuring that would only take even more time to explain, and she only had a week before he came back from hunting to figure out what to do.

"He says it doesn't mean anything. Apparently—and I confirmed this with the Keeper—over half his family, male _and_ female, have had white pelts. Alrik says the only reason why Ruby and Sophia are white is because of that, too," she added. "Their being powerful and white at the same time apparently is just a coincidence."

"So, maybe he only thinks it's a coincidence. Maybe the reason his line is so powerful is because they're white," her twin suggested. Brianna snorted and slouched down in her chair, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"No, I don't think that's it. The Keeper says there are loads of white wolves in other Packs all over the world, and they've got the same chance at being strong as the rest of us."

"Hm."

"Anyway, whatever it is isn't the point," Brianna rushed on. "The point is that I totally wasn't expecting this, and what with everything else, I just don't know what to do."

"Well give me a minute to think," Elizabeth stated. Brianna fiddled with her coffee while she marshaled her thoughts. Of the two of them, Elizabeth was better at analyzing situations, whereas Brianna's strength lay in taking action. Which meant when they were children, Elizabeth came up with all the schemes that Brianna ended up getting punished for, because who would believe sweet, demure Elizabeth Young had a sharper tactical mind than Napoleon?

"So, just to recap, this is what's happened," Elizabeth began. Brianna could see her making lists and drawing strategic graphs as she spoke. "Alpha Hottie picks you to be his mate because you aren't smart enough to be afraid of him—"

"Hey!"

"Don't 'hey' me if it's the truth." Brianna subsided, grumbling. Elizabeth continued as if she hadn't interrupted, "but you don't know about this. Before he even gets a chance to tell you, you get your period and morph into Wolf Lake's favorite Bête Noire. To protect everyone from the big, bad Brianna, he whisks you off to his den of iniquity, where he proceeds to drug you into amnesia and take care of your every need. His reward for this is you taking every opportunity to stick your tongue in his ear."

"He just said I was being affectionate," Brianna interrupted. "He didn't go into details."

"I know. I was just being facetious," Elizabeth countered. "And we'll get back to that in a second. Let me finish.

"So, _anyway," _she continued, "when you finally come to your senses, you're understandably freaked out at having spent almost a week in the company of the sexiest male you've ever seen—"

"You're starting to make me wish I never called you in the first place," Brianna growled. Her twin just laughed.

"—But have no memory of it. But even though he knows that's not cool, he deals with it, and you two spend the rest of your confinement pretty peacefully. And then,you find out—not from him—that he's intended to take you as his mate this whole time, and you get pissed about it, which is an entirely reasonable reaction. But, instead of just saying, 'I would have liked it if you asked me first', you publically humiliate him, then run off and sulk."

"I wasn't sulking, I was thinking."

"I don't have to be there to know what you were doing. You were sulking. Moving on. You spend the night outdoors without telling anyone, and he freaks out at you because he was worried. And then you freak out because he's a white wolf. As a result, the two of you have been dancing around each other for the past two days, to the point where he's actually _fled his own territory_ to get away from you. But before he goes, _he_ does the responsible thing and tells _you_ where he's going and when he'll be back—" Brianna winced in spite of herself. Alrik wasn't the only person to get upset at her taking off for days at a time; it was, yet again, another thing about her she just didn't seem to be able to fix. "—and then you kiss him goodbye without even thinking about it first," Elizabeth concluded. "Have I got it right?"

"That's about the size of it," Brianna confirmed.

"Well, it's obvious what the problem is," said Elizabeth.

"Yeah?" Brianna prompted when her sister remained silent.

"It's you, Dummy," she said. "Once again, we have a squaring off between Real Brianna and Let's-Pretend-I'm-Not-At-All-Different-From-Anybody-Else Brianna."

Brianna groaned. She suspected this was the problem, but hoped it was something else. She hated it when Real Brianna and LPINAADFAE Brianna locked horns.

"Real Brianna" was Elizabeth's way of referring to those times when Brianna let go and behaved as was natural for herself. Real Brianna was the Brianna everyone had known until she Changed and was diagnosed as being a throwback, prompting her parents to relegate her to the status of the Family's Shame, at which point LPINAADFAE Brianna reared her ugly head.

LPINAADFAE Brianna basically was Real Brianna trying to fit in and please her parents. As a result of their rejection, she'd gone out of her way to imitate other werewolf females as best as possible. It hadn't worked with them, but it convinced the rest of the Pack that whatever was so unusual about her was minor and posed no real threat, occasional moments of uncontrolled lashing out notwithstanding. The result, though, was a steadily growing resentment that she couldn't be who she truly was.

The majority of the time, Real Brianna and LPINAADFAE Brianna were the same person. However, when placed under a great deal of stress and unable to see a way out of it, Real Brianna gave up trying to fit in and went on instinct. Usually, LPINAADFAE Brianna was along for the ride, and, when the crisis was over, took over again.

This morning was a perfect example: woken out of a sound sleep, she wasn't fully engaged in the situation. If Brianna had been more awake, she would have responded to Alrik in a way that made more sense to both of them. Instead, Real Brianna—the Brianna who refused to hold grudges, and saw nothing wrong with letting people know exactly what she thought of them, regardless of what the consequences might be—thought it would be appropriate to send the male she was attracted to off on his big hunting trip with her best wishes and a promise for his return.

If it hadn't been for everything else that happened between her and Alrik, LPINAADFAE Brianna wouldn't be so overwhelmed with trying to figure out what needed to be done next. It was just a simple kiss, for Christ's sake.

Elizabeth knew exactly what her twin was thinking.

"That's right," she affirmed. "You're trying too hard to solve this in what you think would look the best to the normal people, but you're doing it without all the facts. And you know what that means."

"Shit," Brianna swore, though without any real heat. She'd hoped she could avoid this. "I hate doing memory retrieval."

"I'm not overly fond of doing it, either, but I don't see what other option you have," pointed out Elizabeth. "You aren't going to be able to figure out what to do when you're missing such a huge chunk of time."

"I may have to," she countered. "The only time it works is when you're the one digging around in my brain, and in case you've forgotten, you're on not only the wrong side of the water, but the wrong side of the mountains, too."

"There's an easy solution to that. Meet me in Seattle."

"Excuse me?"

_"Meet me in Seattle. _You said you've got a week before he comes back. That's plenty of time to do a memory retrieval, recover from the memory retrieval, and then figure out what to do next. I'll just drive up tomorrow, and we can make a weekend of it. We'll do the memory retrieval tomorrow night, and then Saturday and Sunday we can run around the city and have fun and work a plan out together."

"It sounds great, but how the hell am I supposed to get to Seattle, Elizabeth? _I'm on an island."_

"Quit your bitching and figure it out," chastised Elizabeth. "I'll take care of everything. Just meet me tomorrow at three at Rachel."


	15. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Life finally seemed to go Sarah's way, because her pack ended up being lead by the Beta, rather than the Alpha. She hadn't had any interactions with Gerik Dreyer thus far, so had no preconceptions about what he was like as a person. Nevertheless, she was aware that he, too, was an Alpha—the Keeper explained to her the whole thing about Alphas being both a caste and a rank—so assumed that he, also, would be nothing like the powerful males she grew up with. Thus, given that she had no real frame of reference for dealing with such a male, she still was wary of him.

Oh, and there was that whole thing between him and Kit, but she told herself that, no matter how bitter a pill it was to swallow, it really didn't have anything to do with her. So, she convinced herself that his relationship with the other Wolf Lake female wouldn't color his treatment of her, and instead focused all her energies on showing the Changer Islanders that she could be just as valuable to the Pack as the rest of them.

Okay, so not _as _valuable. Not yet anyway. But she was working on it, and one day . . .

Sarah was grateful when the vans pulled off the main road and she overheard a female telling a younger male who, like herself, was participating in his first hunt, that they had about twenty more minutes before reaching the camp. It had taken a great deal of willpower to stop herself from snapping at everyone squashing up against her, hogging more than their fair share of the seat. Still, she kept repeating to herself Niel's admonition about her needing to accept her place, and it did give her an extra measure of control.

It didn't stop her from being one of the first out of the van when it finally rolled to a stop, however. Moaning, she took the time to stretch herself, blissfully ignoring everyone around her in the relief coming from the bend and pull of muscles cramped for too many hours.

"Alright, gather round!" commanded Gerik. Sarah straightened up, then hurried to join everyone as they formed a ring around the Beta. "You know the drill. Get yourselves settled in, grab a bite to eat, then meet me in two hours in the great room for team assignment and population breakdown."

He dismissed them, and the rush was so chaotic Sarah decided to wait to collect her own things. Instead, she used the time to survey her surroundings.

The camp, as the others had called it, consisted of one huge building that looked like a standard lodge. Behind it was another structure that was longer and wider, but only one story high. Additionally, Sarah thought she could see smaller outbuildings that, to her mind, looked like sheds. The camp was situated in a large clearing, itself surrounded by large trees. To the untrained eye, it looked like any other rural homestead, though built to accommodate more than the average number of people.

Herself and the Beta included, there were about twenty werewolves in this particular pack, spanning all ages and genders. Three of them were younger than Sarah, and had recently undergone their first flip. This was their first hunting trip, and the older werewolves appeared to have their hands full with them. They wanted to tear off right away, convinced that they would bring down the biggest, most desirable prey, and were confident enough to tell everyone willing to listen about it. All were stronger than Sarah, so she restrained herself from openly expressing her scorn. However, that didn't stop her from privately finding their behavior obnoxious. She was here to learn something, and if they sucked up all the more experienced werewolves' time, then—well, there wouldn't be Hell to pay, but she would be exceedingly unhappy.

Once the crowd thinned out, Sarah pulled her bag out of the back of the van and slung it over her shoulder. An older male collared her and told her to help them carry supplies in, so she loaded herself up and followed his directions to the kitchen at the back of the main building. There, two werewolves took some of the food from her, then directed her to take the now empty coolers to the long, squat building she'd noticed earlier.

The huge double doors were already open, so she went right in. Inside, the space was a large open room, with low-set rafters suspended with meat hooks. A male pointed her toward the back, where another set of doors were set into the wall. They turned out to lead to a huge walk-in freezer. Two people were tinkering with the cooling unit, swearing as they tried to get it to work.

"I told the Alpha last time that this needed to be replaced," grumbled one. The other suggested he quit complaining and focus on the task at hand.

"Excuse me," Sarah interrupted, mindful of their rank and careful to keep her eyes on the ground. The werewolves paused and turned to look at her. "I was told to put these here . . ." she trailed off.

"Have they been cleaned?" asked the first. Sarah shook her head, and he blew out a puff of air in annoyance. "Take them out back, hose them off, and then leave them open to dry. We'll grab them later."

She nodded, turned around and headed out of the building.

The chore finally complete, she returned to the main building, walking quickly in case anyone else tried to enlist her. She wasn't averse to the idea of helping out; that was why she was here, of course. However, she wanted to claim a bed and drop off her things before throwing herself into the thick of things. Beds were assigned on a first-come first-serve basis, and those who missed out grabbed space where they could.

Luckily, she wasn't so late she was regulated to sleeping on the floor. Unluckily, the only bed left was in a room shared by the newly-Changed werewolves. Groaning quietly to herself, lest her demeanor be interpreted accurately as annoyance, she dropped her bag on the narrow cot and went to scrounge up some linen. By the time she returned, the three teenagers were nose-deep in her belongings. Sarah took a deep breath, bit her lip and counted to ten.

"Could you please not go through my stuff?" she asked, unable to keep the bite of out of her voice. They ignored her.

"Omigod, these are, like, the good Levi's!" the female said as she took off her own jeans and made to pull on Sarah's.

"Yes, they are, and they're mine." Sarah snatched them out of the female's hands and tossed them on her cot.

"Who do you think you are?" the female demanded.

"The owner of all this," she snapped back and began stuffing her belongings back into the bag. "Don't you people have any manners?"

"You're a fine one to talk," one of the males snorted. "I heard you're so rude you aren't allowed to talk to anyone at all." The four of them surrounded her and closed in. Sarah swallowed hard, but pressed on anyway.

"Yeah? Well at least I knew enough not to paw through other people's things without permission," she stated primly.

"Aren't you a bit old to not know your place?" the other male sneered, and shoved her shoulder hard enough she fell against the female behind her. Sarah became the beanbag in a game of hot potato as they pushed her back and forth between them.

_This is not happening. This is not happening, _she chanted to herself desperately. The mood was ugly; any minute, they were going to get bored with the tameness of their game and really lay into her.

She fell heavily against one of the males, and he grabbed her underneath the arms to bodily hurl her. Without even thinking about it, her knee came up and slammed between his legs. Howling, he released her and dropped to the floor, hands cupping his groin.

"You little bitch!" the female snarled and lunged for her. Growling, Sarah swung her bag and hit her across the face. The female fell back, whimpering as she clutched her broken nose.

_Keep going, _Sarah ordered herself. They might be stronger than her, but it looked like the newly flipped werewolves had the same experience in fighting as she did—i.e. none. If she could just keep a clear head, she just might be able to make them back down.

The male still on his feet glanced at her, then began to approach her cautiously. The room wasn't very big; just large enough for two bunk beds and the cot Sarah had claimed. It wasn't ideal for this kind of scuffle. She retreated, still growling, until her back hit the wall.

"You want to fight over this? Then bring it," she taunted, hefting her bag. Most of her toiletries were still in it, which gave it quite a bit of heft.

"What the hell's going on in here?" demanded a rough voice. The three of them paused and looked at the older male standing in the doorway. His body language loudly informed them that he wasn't pleased to by their behavior.

"She attacked us," accused the male still standing. Sarah gasped at the blatant lie. The older male wasn't fooled, however, and merely cocked an eyebrow, inviting the younger male to try again.

"She did!" insisted the female. The older male cast his gaze over her and the male on the floor, who wisely decided to stay down, then turned his attention to Sarah.

"They were rifling through my things without my permission," Sarah explained. "When I asked them to stop they ignored me, so I took them back. Then they started physically pushing me between them, so I defended myself."

The standing male whined in protest, "she's weak! And she's totally out of control. Everyone knows that!"

"She wouldn't be here if the Alpha, Beta and Keeper didn't think that was true," the older male rumbled, on the verge of a growl. "And even if it were, that doesn't mean you have the right to pick on her. It's the duty of the strongest to protect the weakest, not walk all over them. You damn well know that, and if you can't behave yourselves, you'll go right back home. _All _of you," he added, with a pointed look at Sarah. She obediently dropped her eyes.

"But—"

The older male stormed into the room and grabbed the younger by the throat and lifted him off his feet. Sarah bit her lip to silence the cry of alarm that rose in her throat, and forced herself to remain where she stood, her posture submissive.

"What part of what just I said sounded like a suggestion to you, Mark?" he demanded. Mark whimpered in response. The older male shook him a few times, then dropped him to the floor, tsking with disgust.

"Now I will say this only one time—learn to live with each other, and that includes respecting each other's space. This isn't a vacation, and we don't have time to deal with your crap. If we have to pull your heads out of your asses for you, I assure you, it will not be a pleasant experience. Do you understand?"

Sarah's assurance that she did was soon followed by resentful mutterings of the other three. The male stamped his foot hard on the floor, and they all jumped.

"Yes, Sir," they chorused in louder, more respectful tones.

"Right. Now, you have thirty minutes to clean this mess up and get something to eat. If I don't see the four of you in the great room when that time is up, I will drive you back to Changer Island myself." He turned and left them to themselves.

Sarah quickly gathered up the last of her belongings and began setting them to rights. Behind her, the three new werewolves picked themselves up, whimpering and complaining. A prickling sensation on the back of her neck told her they were watching her, and given their mutterings, she didn't think their attention was innocent.

She reached into a side pocket and pulled out a knife. Turning to face her unwanted roommates, she removed the sheath and brandished it before them. The blade was mostly straight, but curved sharply at the end.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked them conversationally, not daring to look them in the eye lest she lose her nerve. At their silence, she continued. "It's a skinning knife. My grandfather gave it to me when I survived my first flip. So far, I've never gotten a chance to use it on actual prey."

She sheathed it and tucked it into her back pocket. The feelings emanating from them were less hostile, and more . . . wary. With a tinge of fear. She smiled to herself. She'd told the complete truth; if any of them actually inspected it, they'd realize it had never been used at all.

* * *

The rain was coming down steadily by the time Brianna arrived at the Pike Place Market. Elizabeth already was standing by Rachel, the life-sized bronze pig that stood in front of the Fish Market and welcomed shoppers to Seattle's most famous tourist attraction.

Elizabeth smiled when she saw her, then froze when she noticed the male Brianna had in tow.

"Who's this?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"This is Niel, the Changer Island Keeper," Brianna introduced blandly.

"And he's here why?" Elizabeth didn't bother to hide her resentment at his presence.

"Because he's the Keeper of Changer Island," Brianna replied tartly, though none of it was directed at her twin. "Apparently, the Keeper has never witnessed a memory retrieval, and wants to observe and record it for posterity. Letting him tag along was the price of me being allowed to come here for the weekend."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Let's get this show going then," she declared. "I made reservations for one shared room at the Alexis. Your Keeper is going to have to make his own arrangements." She shot a look at Niel, who merely smiled blandly in return.

In order to get to Seattle in time to meet Elizabeth, Brianna needed to cross the Sound, rather than take the ferry to Kitsap and drive down the peninsula, then catch a ferry at Bremerton. In order to do that, she needed someone who knew how to pilot a boat. There were plenty of skilled sailors on Changer Island who would have been happy to take her, but, with so many of the Pack away, there were standing orders that no one could leave unless they absolutely had to. Brianna thought this definitely required as an "absolutely had to leave" scenario, but she still had to ask permission. With the Alpha and Beta gone, that meant she had to ask Niel.

The Keeper reasonably demanded she explain what was so important that she couldn't delay meeting her sister for a week, and she'd had no choice but to come clean. Not about everything, of course. She assumed Niel was acquainted with the bare facts of what progressed between her and Alrik, but didn't think he needed to hear the details.

She did have to explain about the memory retrieval, though, because he'd never heard of it. He made her describe the process, which she really couldn't do well, then said he'd give her permission on the grounds that she let him piggyback during the process. Brianna felt she could trust Niel in general, but hadn't known him long enough to feel comfortable with giving him access to the private contents of her head.

He'd insisted. She was a Wild Child, and if it was something that only Wild Child could do, then it was an important piece of knowledge about them that no one had ever heard of. Also, the memories she retrieved would have an impact on the progression of her relationship with Alrik, which meant it needed to be included in the Pack records.

Unable to come up with any counterargument, Brianna had given in. She tried to call Elizabeth to warn her, but her twin didn't answer her cell phone.

And now here they all were, walking down First Avenue toward one of Seattle's most exclusive hotels. Brianna was grateful they'd be getting this over with as soon as possible, with the opportunity to recover in luxury, but she still had to make an effort not to drag her feet.

Niel headed toward reception to try and get a room for himself, nodding as Elizabeth told him their room number over her shoulder as she whisked Brianna into the elevator.

"You're not actually going to let him see your private memories," she hissed at Brianna.

"I don't see what choice I have," she replied, resigned. "Besides, it's going to be uncomfortable anyway. Why not make it a party?"

Elizabeth shook her head in irritation. The elevator doors opened, and she towed Brianna down the hall to their room.

Elizabeth had gone all out and reserved a suite—but then, Elizabeth did enjoy the finer things in life. That she was their parents' favored child meant she could have whatever she wanted. In spite of her tastes, she didn't ask for much too often.

She helped Brianna unpack her things and stow them in the chest of drawers, then chatted aimlessly while her twin took a shower. Brianna took comfort in the gossip, as it kept her mind off of what was to come. Too soon, though, Niel was knocking on the door, and it was time.

Niel sat himself down at the desk and removed a tape recorder, notebook and fountain pen. He checked the tape, then loaded it into the recorder and tested it.

"That isn't going to be much use. This is a strictly mental procedure," Elizabeth told him.

"I figured," he replied. "Still, I'd like to ask some questions before we get started, and I'll use it later to record my thoughts if I'm too tired to write them down."

Elizabeth sniffed daintily, then sat next to Brianna on the couch. "What do you want to know?" she asked haughtily. Niel gave her an indulgent smile, and Brianna couldn't help but be amused by her twin's inability to rile the Keeper.

"Well, to begin with, how does this work?"

Brianna sighed in annoyance. "I told you before—it's not something that can be described. You just have to see it."

"Try anyway," the Keeper pressed.

"It's simple enough," Elizabeth began. "Brianna connects with me and gives me full access to her head. She uses a mental connection that only she can make, otherwise it doesn't work. When I'm in, I work through all of Brianna's mental processes, find out where the blockages are, how they developed, and then remove them based on what I find. I have to be careful and make sure the blockages are removed in the correct order, or else Brianna remembers everything out of order, and the confusion makes her . . . upset."

"Upset how?" Niel interrupted. "Anxious, depressed, angry?"

"All of the above," Brianna clarified. "Which then causes me to flip out." Niel nodded and jotted something down in his notebook. "And it doesn't go away immediately, either. It takes a while for the memories to sort themselves out, and during that period, I'm completely disoriented and on edge."

"How long does that take?"

Brianna shrugged, so Elizabeth chose to elaborate. "It only happened the first time, and it took about four months. After that, I was more careful."

Niel's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "How many times have you done this?" he asked.

"Three, not including this time," Elizabeth replied.

"It's how we figured out I can't take opiates," Brianna said. "The last time was, what, two years ago?"

"Something like that," Elizabeth confirmed. "She only took the pain killers for a short time each time, but the longer she takes them, the messier her brain is."

"How short is 'a short time'?"

"The longest was a day and a half. Our parents stopped giving them to her when they realized the pills were making her act out."

Niel gave Brianna a long look. "So, nowhere as long as five days?" Brianna shook her head and Elizabeth winced.

"You didn't tell me that," she said to her twin. Brianna shrugged again, miserable.

"Other than her brain being messier, what does that mean?" Niel pressed.

"It means it's going to take longer and be more stressful for me," Brianna explained. "It doesn't hurt Elizabeth, but I have to stay conscious and completely still."

Niel grimaced in sympathy, understanding immediately that forcing yourself to not react when you felt someone rummage around in your brain, metaphorically pulling levers and pushing buttons, was pure torture.

"Is there anything else?" Elizabeth asked testily. "Because I'd like to get this over with. It may not hurt me directly, but I can still feel Brianna's distress when I'm in her head."

Niel confirmed that was all for the moment, and settled himself more comfortably in the chair. Elizabeth sat on the floor, her back against the couch, and Brianna lay with her head in her lap. Her twin covered her with a blanket, then cupped her face in her hands and closed her eyes. Brianna stared resolutely at the ceiling, mentally counting the minutes until this was done.

Elizabeth mentally reached out to Niel, and he made the connection. They weren't sure if he would be able to stay connected to her when she descended into Brianna's mind, given the different natures of the connections the three of them were making. Nevertheless, in spite of her nervousness of giving him access to the most private part of herself, she hoped it worked. Otherwise, he was going to ask her to describe everything, and she'd prefer to spend the rest of the night with her head in the toilet without being badgered at the same time.

Elizabeth indicated that her connection with the Keeper was solid, so Brianna reached out and hooked her twin with her own frequency. She felt the strong pulse between them, and noted the thickness of her twin's own thread. She assumed it was Niel, so opened the connection a little wider to accommodate for him.

When it was secure, she took a deep breath, braced herself, and sucked Elizabeth and Niel down into the depths of her mind. Elizabeth's grip on her jaw tightened, and Brianna heard Niel gasp in shock. Their reactions registered distantly, as she was preoccupied with restraining her instinct to purge them from her mind.

The minutes ticked by. Brianna gripped the soft pile of the carpet so tightly her knuckles whitened, as her sister carefully picked through her memories. They flashed before her eyes, time progressing backwards: riding the bus from Ballard to Downtown; crossing the Sound in one of the Pack's sailboats; asking Niel permission to go to Seattle . . .

Elizabeth sped up her pace, racing along nerves and bypassing neurons in search of the memories closest to the time of memory loss. Given her need to remain disconnected from what was going on, Brianna couldn't just resurrect the memory of waking up in Alrik's arms, and instead had to endure her sister's slow, systematic search.

And then Elizabeth was there, at that moment. She lingered over the memory itself, and it played out in slow motion before Brianna's inner eye. Not just her conscious actions, though; everything her body had registered, even before she awoke. They were just feelings—sensations, really—but Brianna experienced them all as if she conscious in that moment.

_Pleasure and contentment. Safety. Belonging. This was her place, and nothing could hurt her here. Nothing could take it away from her. The smell of Alrik wrapped around her as surely as his body sheltered her. He was between her and the door, an unconscious decision to keep her safe from whatever danger might come from that direction. His hand caressed her hip in leisurely circles, then slowly moved up her side until his thumb grazed the underside of her breast. His hand slid up her body higher just enough to cup her breast, and began to gently—barely—knead it. She arched against him in pleasure, her backside brushing against his groin. A contented sound rumbled out of his throat, and he nipped the nape of her neck. She slowly surfaced into consciousness and opened her eyes . . . _

Elizabeth stopped playing out the memory, then quickly backtracked through it until she reached the point right before it began, where there was nothing but a blank wall. Brianna felt a tiny burst of power anchor itself to that point, and then Elizabeth moved on past it.

Having found the end of the series of blockages, her twin moved more slowly through her mind, carefully examining each and every point where there was a blockage. She once described it to Brianna as if walls had been erected where, she assumed, each new dose of opiate reached her brain. The spaces in between them were the lost memories, but she didn't try to play them now; if she did, even going backwards, it would screw up Brianna's recall, and cause the situation she'd described to Niel. Instead, Elizabeth skipped from blockage to blockage, puzzling out which ones were the oldest, which were the earliest.

From the feel of things, Alrik had been good about dosing Brianna with Vicodin at regular intervals. On the one hand, that made things easier for Elizabeth to find the blockages. On the other, it made sorting them out more difficult, because there were more of them, and they weren't arranged linearly. The werewolf brain, like the human brain, wasn't a two-dimensional map, with the neural pathways crossing it like highways. Memories, in particular, were difficult things to pin down, because they were accessed using multiple sensorial cues. It was like plugging in a few words into Google and hoping the suggested pages included the one you were looking for, only even more frustrating.

Basically, what this meant was that the blockages weren't limited to just one part of her brain; sometimes, the same blockage was split over different lobes and pathways, all depending on what the cues were. To remove one, Elizabeth first had to find all the pieces, then fit them together like some kind of neurological Rubik's cube, and only then could she take them apart.

_Jesus, this is going to take all night,_ Brianna thought sourly, then winced when Elizabeth brushed up against the wrong neuron and disorientation made her head swim.

* * *

Niel watched, awed in spite of himself, as the female skillfully cruised through her twin's brain, locating the different pieces of the blockages, marking them all with her power in elaborate signatures to indicate specific times, then went back and further identified which pieces went where.

Sooner than he would have realized, she declared herself finished, then retrieved the oldest pieces and started putting them together. It was incredibly difficult, delicate work, and he marveled that someone so young could do it. He wasn't sure even he could do it, if asked to, and he was miles above Elizabeth in strength.

Elizabeth dissolved the first blockage, and the memory played out before them . . .

_The sound of water splashing. Someone was coming toward her. Brianna growled low in her throat, and prepared herself for their attack. A male appeared. _That _male. The male from the street that day in Wolf Lake. She upped her growl, but he only smiled and reached for her. She lashed out, but pain made her too slow. Quicker than she would have thought possible, he subdued her, and she howled in misery at her impending death . . ._

_He carried her from the cave and up onto the path. She was asleep, but still her body remembered how securely he held her, gentle and protective._

_Hot water pounded against her muscles . . . soft, fluffy towel massing her skin . . . smooth surface against her back, then cool sheets pulled over her. A gentle hand resting against her forehead._

Elizabeth moved onto the next blockage.

_The pain dissolved, leaving Brianna to float in her own body. She rose from the bed and followed the scent of the male through the hallway to the closed door. She pushed it open and peered around the edge. The male sat with his back to her, typing on a computer. She knew he knew she was there, but continued to ignore her, confident that she wouldn't attack him. Irritation pricked at her because he was right. He had let her live, which meant she couldn't violate his hospitality. She stepped into the office and stood behind his chair, waiting for him to respond. Several minutes passed before he spun the chair around and looked up at her. She stared back at him, silent. He reached up to touch her face, and she slapped his hand away, her own reversing in direction to swipe across his face. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. She struggled and growled, but could not break his grip. The male held her tight against him and made soothing sounds in her ear while his power swept over her again and again, attempting to calm her. Eventually, she succumbed._

Elizabeth moved onto the next blockage.

_The male was sleeping. The perfect opportunity. Brianna crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was so hungry . . . she refused to eat anything he prepared for her. She didn't trust him not to poison her. Such a gentle way to dispose of her, just like Willard Cates disposed of his brother. But Brianna wasn't a criminal, nor was she an idiot. If he wanted to get rid of her, he was going to have to break her neck. She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a plastic container. It held beef, the same beef he'd tried to feed to her hours earlier. Her mouth watered at the smell of the rich meat, but she resealed the lid and put it back. No way she was going to risk it. Instead, she ate cold chicken. It was three days old, but she hadn't been here then, which meant it was safe._

Elizabeth moved onto the next blockage.

_It hurt. Not her body, her soul. The loneliness ate at her. She was so tired of being alone, and he was right down the hallway. All she had to do was go to him, and the pain would go away. He always made the pain go away. He was so gentle, so kind and patient. She crept down the hall and stood outside his bedroom door. All she had to do was go in, and she would be with him. Such a little thing, and she knew now he wouldn't hurt her, only wanted to help her. But there was something else . . . something in that power, that strong, masculine scent, when it wrapped around her, filled her. The way it made her feel was nothing she had ever felt before. She pushed the door open and quietly stepped inside. Still asleep, yet he rolled over in response to the small sounds she couldn't prevent making. Cautiously, she slipped between the sheets. He didn't move. She inched closer, and still he didn't move. Holding her breath, she pressed herself against his body. Still asleep, he slipped his arm around her waist, and she sighed happily. She knew what this feeling was now. It was home._

Elizabeth moved onto the next blockage . . .


	16. Chapter 15

A bit about hunting . . .

Normally I would put this at the end of a chapter, but I felt it worthwhile to break form and put this note at the beginning.

I am not a hunter. Most of what I know about hunting is from reading game cook books and what I briefly researched online. So, if something I've written doesn't make sense or appears out-and-out wrong, it's because I just don't know any better. PLEASE send me a message and tell me what it is, and why I'm mistaken. I might not go back and change it in this story, but I definitely will take your information and use it for future projects.

Thanks!

The Other Laughing Wolf

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kit prowled through the underbrush, searching for a safe place away from the rest of the pack. It was just her bad luck that, on the night she was supposed to go back to the other state and check on the braids, she had been conscripted into hunting.

When word came down that she and Sarah had been tapped to go hunting, Sarah had been overjoyed. Kit would have been, also; the chance to get off the island and actually do something, nevermind the chance to hunt in her other skin, was damn near irresistible. However—and normally she would never have put the Pack's best interests behind her own—she had more important things to do. If she didn't check the braids _now, _then it would have meant all that work was wasted, and she'd have to wait at least another week before trying again.

Which meant more time would be spent with her and Gerik in this holding pattern that slowly was driving her mad.

So she was reduced to sneaking off in the middle of hunt, which was completely irresponsible on so many levels she couldn't begin to imagine how bad the fallout would be if she were caught.

_Just get in and get out, _she told herself. _The faster you get this over with, the sooner you can rejoin the pack. If anyone notices you were gone, you can just say you got separated and lost. They'll think you're an idiot, but whatever. You can make it up to them later._

Finally, she located a tree with a hollow in its base just large enough to curl up in. She crawled in, fitting herself to the tree's nooks and crannies, then curled up with her nose on her hind flank and closed her eyes.

Now for the tricky part . . .

She'd never done this before without incense to help her trick her mind into descending. Still, there was no hope for it. She'd just give it her best shot, and if it failed, well, there were several productive ways to work off her temper.

Breathing deeply, she concentrated on her surroundings, defining them with all her senses. The smell of leaf mold, of the earth . . . the tick and chitter of the wildlife around her . . . when she was hyperaware of everything, she began to separate herself from her own body. After a few false starts, the familiar pain in her forehead materialized, and she used that as her focal point.

As she suspected, it took her longer to descend and navigate the void. However, she did manage it, and raced through the landscapes until she reached the nighttime map of Changer Island. The braids were easy enough to find; their glow outshone all the other lights and pulsed like a homing beacon. Quickly, she floated down to the ground and, hovering six inches over them, carefully lifted them in her hands.

And this was the part that would take her the longest. Quelling the urge to rush through it, she gently played with the braids, turning them this way and that, peering closely at the shadows between the interlocking threads and the spaces between the plaits themselves. She supposed there was an easier way to read them, but having to discover this all by herself meant she was left to her own imagination when it came to interpreting their messages. Given that she'd only done this once before meant she didn't have much of a yard stick to measure her own accuracy.

Finally, something clicked, and she was seized by a vision . . .

_She was sitting on a boulder on the side of the path. The sun was shining, and a cool, relaxing breeze nuzzled her cheek. And yet she was nothing. Just a form that had flashes of moments where it wondered if it truly was its own person that was sinking into the land, or just a piece of the land that deluded itself into thinking it was independent of the whole._

_Footsteps sounded on the path. She looked up, and what she was no longer mattered, because Gerik stood before her. He wanted her to come to him, and she knew if she did, she wouldn't have to worry about anything_ _anymore. Happily, she placed her hand in his. He swung her up in his arms and carried her down the path. She relaxed and let herself dissolve into him, until there was no difference between them._

The vision released her, and emotions swirled inside Kit. Losing herself in a male was _not _what she wanted, and yet there was something so reassuring about it . . . She blinked rapidly, and told herself to see what else the braids might tell her.

_She was sitting on a boulder on the side of the path. The sun was shining, and a cool, relaxing breeze nuzzled her cheek. And yet she was nothing. Just a form that had flashes of moments where it wondered if it truly was its own person that was sinking into the land, or just a piece of the land that deluded itself into thinking it was independent of the whole._

_Footsteps sounded on the path. She looked up, and saw Gerik. He held his hand out to her, inviting her to take it. It was tempting, to place herself utterly into his protection. However . . . She ignored his hand, stood, and set off onto the path. After a few steps, she paused and looked back at him. He gazed at her in confusion, but when she didn't move on, hesitantly joined her. He tried to reach out and take her arm, but she pulled it away. Side by side, they walked down the path._

That one was better, but there was a coldness to it Kit didn't like. She searched again.

_She was sitting on a boulder on the side of the path. The sun was shining, and a cool, relaxing breeze nuzzled her cheek. And yet she was nothing. Just a form that had flashes of moments where it wondered if it truly was its own person that was sinking into the land, or just a piece of the land that deluded itself into thinking it was independent of the whole._

_Footsteps sounded on the path. She looked up and saw Gerik. He held his hand out to her, inviting her to take it. She dropped her gaze and turned her face away from him. Eventually, he moved on. Kit remained where she was. Periodically, other males would come down the path, pause in front of her, and hold out their hands for her to take. They all appealed, but none were like Gerik. She remained where she was, and dissolved into the landscape._

Definitely not. She searched again.

_She was sitting on a boulder on the side of the path. The sun was shining, and a cool, relaxing breeze nuzzled her cheek. And yet she was nothing. Just a form that had flashes of moments where it wondered if it truly was its own person that was sinking into the land, or just a piece of the land that deluded itself into thinking it was independent of the whole._

_Footsteps sounded on the path. She looked up, and saw Gerik. He held his hand out to her, inviting her to take it. It was tempting, to place herself utterly into his protection. However . . . She ignored his hand, stood, and set off onto the path. After a few steps, she paused and looked back at him. He gazed at her in confusion, but when she didn't move on, hesitantly joined her. She slipped her arm through his, then looked up at him again. His face was impassive. From her mouth, she removed a bite of meat and held it out before him. He opened his mouth, and she placed it on his tongue. He chewed it slowly, then swallowed._

Hm . . . now that was interesting. Still, best to explore everything the braids could reveal to her. She searched again, but the braids had nothing to tell her. She was mildly disappointed, but, well, it was plenty to think about. Kit began to back herself out of the other state.

* * *

Alrik was only mildly concerned when he realized Kit was no longer with the hunting pack. The forest had its dangers, even for werewolves, but he didn't sense any urgency that suggested she was in trouble. He told the others to go on, then backtracked until he found her scent.

Her scent clearly diverged from the rest of the pack, though there were no signs that she'd followed prey. He kept his nose to the ground and continued to follow her trail. It would be easier to find her if he used his power, but that would alert the entire forest to their presence. This way, they appeared simply to be a pack of wolves searching for dinner. Certainly something to be alarmed about, but not nearly as concerning if their prey knew what they really were, and thus that they had more resources at their disposal than the usual run of predators.

He found her after following the trail for a mile. She appeared to be sleeping, but her choice of location—and the fact that Kit had always appeared to him fairly responsible—raised his level of concern. Had something happened to her? Was she sick?

Alrik nudged her with his nose, but she didn't respond. Additionally, her body was a little cool to the touch. Truly worried now, he threw caution to the wind and pushed himself inside her mind.

Her body was still alive and, to all appearances, healthy. However, Kit was . . . not there. There was a sense that that the creature who called herself Kit inhabited this space on a regular basis, but her mind felt like an empty house.

With a thread running from it off into the void. _Ah._

His own mind at ease, Alrik followed the thread. Normally, he wouldn't think to disturb a Walk, but this wasn't the best place for her to take one. Still, Alrik couldn't help but be impressed that a werewolf from Wolf Lake even knew how to Walk. He'd have to ask her about it later, when they weren't supposed to be hunting meat for the Pack.

The thread snaked through the void, then emerged into the misted landscape. Alrik continued to follow it as it wove through the mists, past clearings and rocks and up the face of a waterfall. It disappeared into a cave, and he followed it in.

Where it then disappeared into the center of a spiral carved onto the wall. He paused for a moment to analyze the spiral, and was even more pleased by what he found. Kit had drawn this spiral herself, and somehow anchored it into the landscape. However, she hadn't tuned it just to herself, so it took no effort on his part to activate it and follow the thread.

Alrik emerged onto a night-shrouded landscape, this one a mirror to the physical world, and his face split into a grin. She was reading the land. A Wolf Lake werewolf was actually reading the land! He intended to delay their conversation until they returned to Changer Island, but now decided to squeeze it in during the downtime between hunting and dressing their kills. This simply was too interesting to wait.

Quickly, Alrik located Kit's signature on Changer Island. He hid himself from her senses, then watched as she began to backtrack along her own thread. When she exited the landscape, he descended to the ground to see what she'd been examining.

Three braids were dissolving into the land, but the remnants still gave off enough light for him to examine them. They were constructed from strands of both Kit and Gerik. She had cast a foretelling . . . no wonder she risked censure by leaving the hunting pack. This type of casting—and it was a fairly crude one, at that—was time-sensitive.

He quickly read the braids, wanting to glean as much information from them as possible before they completely dissipated. From the power signature she left on them, Kit hadn't managed to read everything they had to say. However, she had received their most important messages. Satisfied, Alrik hurried their dissolution, then slipped out of the landscapes and back into the physical world.

* * *

The first sight to greet Kit when she opened her eyes was that of a large male white wolf blocking her exit from the tree.

_Oh, damn. The Alpha._

As if he'd heard her private thoughts, the Alpha opened his own eyes and gazed at her inscrutably. Kit didn't move. She wasn't afraid that he would hurt her; rather, she dreaded the lecture about her behavior.

The Alpha's lips curled back over his teeth in fair imitation of a grin, and his head lowered enough for their noses to touch.

*Next time, tell someone you need time to yourself,* he chided her.

*Um . . .*

*Three males,* he commanded.

*What?*

*Three male elk in reparation for leaving the pack without permission,* he elaborated. *I know you're capable of it. Don't worry. It doesn't have to be tonight.* The Alpha stood and shook himself to resettle his coat. *Come on, now. We've wasted enough time.*

* * *

Sarah munched on a sausage as she followed the werewolves out into the hanging shed. The first hunting pack had alerted them they were returning, and had been successful. The Beta directed her and three other werewolves to prepare the hooks for hanging while the rest of them met the hunters and helped bring in their kills.

There wouldn't be much for her to do until tonight, when the hunting party she was assigned to went out. James, the male who had talked to her during the drive over, explained that, because of the temperature, the meat needed to be hung for at least two days before they dressed it. So, unless the first pack wiped the forest clean, it wouldn't take them very long. The real work would be later.

Sarah wished the pack had stayed out a little longer. She wasn't averse to getting up this early, but it would be difficult for her to get back to sleep. She'd toss and turn for hours, and then wake up cranky and not at all rested. Then, on top of that, pulling an all-nighter with her own hunting pack . . .

_Well, I'll just have to figure something out, _she told herself sternly. There was no point in wasting energy complaining about something everyone else was happy with. They'd only look down on her for it.

Once everything was set up, she headed back outside to see if anyone needed her help carrying the kills. Apparently not. The Beta and six werewolves came back, followed by the hunters, all flipped into their human skins and sweating, in spite of the cold morning air. Between them all, they carried what looked like three good-sized male elk and two female. Sarah was surprised that they would have killed two females, but when she inspected them as they were carried past her, she could see they were older, weren't pregnant, and hadn't given birth that year.

Though most of the werewolves undoubtedly heard it before, Gerik still lectured them about the type of prey they were to go after. High on the list were females pregnant, with or without young. Sarah was familiar with that stricture, as it was a common one humans imposed upon their hunters. Surprisingly, though, Gerik also banned killing bucks under two years old. James helpfully explained that this was a long-standing hunting order, to allow the population as much diversity as possible.

"Leave the old males to breed exclusively, and there'll be all sorts of trouble down the line," he elaborated. "Humans don't like hunters to take the older males, but that's only because human hunters only are interested in having the huge antler racks to display. A lot of them will take the head and a few pounds of meat, then leave the rest of it to rot."

Sarah's brow wrinkled in confusion. "But older meat's better," she said. "And isn't it starting to get nice and fat around this time of year?"

James grinned and nodded. "Humans are weird," he said. "They slaughter all their meat young, though it doesn't have any real taste. At least I don't think so."

She hadn't known that, but maybe it explained why she couldn't stand most of the meat sold in grocery stores. It always tasted so bland to her . . . and she loathed beef. It was too boring.

"For someone who claims to not know anything about hunting, you do appear to know _a little _bit about it," James teased her. Sarah shrugged.

"I know what I like," she replied nonchalantly, not wanting to let him know how much his praise pleased her.

And right now, what she liked was freshly killed elk. Her mouth watered at the tantalizing scents of blood and raw meat wafting toward her nose. The sausage she'd grabbed from the kitchen on her way out now tasted like grass in her mouth compared to the richness of a fresh kill.

When the parade of kills came to an end, she and another female pulled the double doors shut behind them and latched them. That was another thing Gerik had harped upon, the importance of not drawing attention to themselves. There was no point in going through all this trouble if the rangers confiscated their kills and slapped the Pack with a huge fine for killing more than their allotted weight limit. Obviously, explaining that werewolves required twice as much meat as humans, and were much more careful in their selection of prey, was out of the question.

* * *

The three new werewolves struggled to hang a large male elk as they watched Sarah from the corner of their eye.

"Who does she think she is?" grumbled Edith as she shoved a leg out of her face.

"Yeah," chimed in Felix. "She's the weakest, and everyone says she's not even supposed to be in the Pack. She's just here because her own Pack didn't want her."

Mark privately agreed with them, but Alec, the male who halted their fight yesterday, had pulled him aside after the meeting with the Beta and verbally torn a strip off him for letting things go so far.

_You're the strongest in that room. That means it's your responsibility to keep everyone else in line, _the old male lectured. Mark explained about the female getting all up in their faces about looking at her things, but Alec hadn't seen things his way. According to him, Sarah had every right to voice her displeasure at their intrusion. After all, would they dare to paw through the possessions of someone who outranked them? Or even just an older, more experienced werewolf? No, of course not, and the same courtesy applied to her.

He'd sent Mark off with one last flea in his ear—one more step out of line, the older male promised, and his father would hear more than he cared to about it when they returned to Changer Island. That was the last thing Mark wanted; his father had given him permission to join the hunters at the last minute, and only because his mother weighed in at the end. He thought Mark was too young, too inexperienced, to know how to handle himself properly on an official hunt. Oh, he'd tried to soften the blow by stating that they would go hunting together one weekend and he'd show his son the ropes, but Mark doubted it would be anything close to the enjoyable family outing he promised.

No matter what he did, Mark just didn't seem to be able to measure up to his father's exacting standards, and if he found out about the fight . . . well, saying there'd be hell to pay would be an understatement. His father wouldn't yell—his father never yelled—but he'd still manage to convey how, yet again, Mark had let him down.

It was bad enough he hadn't caught anything last night. Sure, some of the other hunters hadn't, either, and they still had days to go, but it was embarrassing, all the same.

"What do you think?" Edith asked. Mark stared at her blankly, then shook his head to snap himself out of his reverie.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," he apologized.

"What should we do to her?" Edith pressed. "A little bit of nothing like her can't get away with shaming us in front of the rest of the Pack. She needs to be taught her place."

Mark shook his head. "No, don't do anything," he told them. Felix's jaw dropped, and Edith's face took on a mean cast.

"You were the one that was going on and on about her yesterday at dinner," Felix pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," Mark said firmly. "You're right—she's nothing. And that means it'd just look bad if we took the time to knock her down. She's not our responsibility." Not true at all, according to Alec, but Mark didn't feel like embarrassing himself by revealing the contents of that conversation. "Just ignore her for now, and by the time we get back to Changer Island, she'll be holed up above the café, and we won't have to deal with her."

"She _broke_ my _nose,"_ Edith reminded him bitingly. "I'm supposed to just let that go?"

"Luck," he declared. "She's so weak, she shouldn't have been able to do that, so it was just luck. Your nose is fine now, so just let it go." Edith's face pinched and turned a mottled red. She opened her mouth, but Felix beat her to the punch.

"And what about that thing with the knife?" he pressed. "She threatened us. We all heard her."

He shrugged. "Just bravado, probably. Let her have it. She's never going to amount to anything, anyway, and if we hadn't been so disorganized, she never would have had the chance."

"So, then let's get organized," Edith demanded. "Let's get a plan and act on it. She can't beat all three of us again."

Mark's patience snapped, and he rounded on his two friends.

"Are you stupid?" he hissed. "That's exactly the sort of thing that will get us sent right back home! Three strong werewolves picking on a weak one. How do you think that will look?"

"Like we're disciplining a weaker Pack member, and she's not even that!" Edith snapped in return.

"No, it won't. It'll look like we're abusing her. Imagine what the Beta will say then, and you just know he'll tell the Alpha. And the Alpha will tell the Wild Child, and then she'll come after us, if there's anything left of us after the Alpha gets done with us, that is."

"Please. Everyone knows the Wild Child doesn't like her," Felix scoffed. "Why else do you think the Incident happened?"

"You know what else they say about the Wild Child? That's she's honorable, with a hair-trigger temper. We go after someone weaker than us, who just so happens to be from the same Pack as her, and it won't matter what the Wild Child thinks. She'll just tear right into us."

Disgusted, he stormed away. Edith and Felix hadn't been this dense before they Changed, and it was just one in a long string of events that suggested that maybe he should think about finding some new friends.

"I don't care what he says," Edith spat after Mark's retreating back. "I'm going to get her if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

With so many of them working together, the hanging and preliminary dressing went quickly, which only caused Sarah to privately renew her gripe that some of them be allowed to sleep. _There'll be plenty of work later on, after all._

Still, it was over, and everyone raced to clean themselves up and sit down to breakfast. The lodge, as she was coming to refer to the main building, was equipped with a table that could seat double their amount, which meant formal mealtimes. Sarah didn't mind that at all; it was more of a guarantee that she actually would get something to eat. Also, the formality meant the new werewolves were forced to behave themselves—or, at least, were expected to.

Why had they even been allowed to come? All they wound up doing was monopolizing everyone's attention, and from the few bits of gossip she'd managed to overhear, the first hunting pack had spent most of their time rounding up the two with them instead of actually tracking prey. It was sheer luck they managed to catch as many elk as they did.

To be fair, Sarah didn't think the three of them were doing it on purpose. They simply were too new to the sensation of being able to flip to focus on much else. Though her own first flip had been unbelievably long and painful, once it completed and she survived, Sarah adjusted quickly to the experience of moving about in her wolf skin. Perhaps it had something to do with the amount of power she could call on; since it was so small compared to other werewolves, Sarah ignored that side of her abilities more often than not, focusing on her physical resources.

Granted, she hadn't done too well with those, judging by the Keeper's reaction toward her accomplishments during their lessons, but she'd never really had that much opportunity to use her whole range of senses back in Wolf Lake. Or, rather, she hadn't needed to. For Sarah, flipping had been an opportunity to run and play on four feet instead of two. Since she wasn't as strong or fast as her peers, she'd stayed away from the formal, trap-laden runs. That, combined with the fact that, even as weak as she was she was still one of the more deadly predators in the forest, meant there was little she had to fear.

_Still nothing to fear, _she reminded herself as she spooned eggs onto her plate and passed the bowl on. _I just have to start using my senses for more than immediate survival, now._

And she would, too. Starting tonight. She still wasn't able to listen to her skin and tongue, but her eyes, ears and nose were in top working order. Besides, like James said, she didn't have to run at the front of the pack tonight. Trailing behind, helping out where they needed her in whatever little capacity she could, was enough.

And, if she was lucky and paid attention, she wouldn't be a drag on the pack like the new werewolves. One of them was in her pack—the female, Edith—and Sarah anticipated there being as much trouble with her as with the other two. However, the Beta was leading them, and Sarah had faith in his ability to keep the female in line.

And if she was _really _lucky, all three of them would shut up for at least five minutes so she could actually enjoy some part of this trip.

Edith shrieked in laughter at something one of younger males said to her, and Sarah cursed to herself. Apparently, Luck had bestowed all the favor upon her that it was going to on this trip. At least James had planted himself next to her, providing something of a buffer.

Since their arrival, James had been a welcome companion. He seemed more than happy to answer any question she had, and was careful not to say anything that might embarrass her, though she occasionally did pick up hints from him that he was surprised by the depth of her ignorance. She tried not to let it bother her, and sternly reminded herself that, ultimately, this was supposed to be a learning experience.

She also kept in mind the Keeper's strictures to her before they set out yesterday morning. Specifically, that the best way to learn to get along with others—and, as a result, secure herself in a Pack's hierarchy—was to say nothing and pay attention to everything.

_You have an advantage in that, _he explained. _Because your strength is so much less than everyone else's, it makes it easy for them to overlook you. Don't try to draw attention to yourself, and you'll be able to see things even those above you might miss._

Sarah had never considered her weakness as something that might work for her, but put in that light, maybe it was an asset. So, when she wasn't pestering James to answer her questions, she kept her mouth shut and her eyes open. So far, it seemed to have worked. Aside from the fight she'd gotten into yesterday, no one had taken any particular notice of her, which meant they didn't bother to hide anything from her.

Take breakfast, for instance. Gerik, as Beta, and thus the highest ranking werewolf present, sat at the head of the table. Though he appeared congenial enough, the werewolves seated around him only spoke to him in the most respectful tones, and he responded in like. They were closest to him in rank, and Sarah would have thought they all would be more familiar with one another. However, she came to realize that they remained formal because, in spite of their abilities, he was an Alpha and they were not. Even if he were weaker than them, his caste alone was enough to demand nothing less but their utmost respect.

On the other hand, weaker werewolves farther down the table thought nothing of shouting up it to Gerik, or stopping by his chair and cracking a joke. He responded with equal familiarity, seeming more at ease with them than his peers.

The reason for that wasn't readily apparent to Sarah, and, given that there would be a great deal of downtime for the next few days, resolved to make uncovering the answer her little project.


	17. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Three days into the hunting trip, Sarah had adjusted her internal clock to her pack's schedule. So, when Gerik called everyone together and announced they were going out that afternoon, she was dismayed. After a long morning of hanging the previous night's kills and dressing the ready meat, she was more than prepared to go to bed.

"We're going after bear," Gerik said. The pack instantly became excited, but the Beta cautioned them to not get too worked up. "Taking down elk isn't a walk in the park, as you all know, but bear's different. Bears are smart, and they aren't our natural prey. If anything, they're the closest we have to actual rival predators. Normally, I'd want to do this with guns, but we didn't bring any with us. So, we're going to have to do it with tooth and claw. And that means, while they will run when they see us, they'll run _at _us, rather than away from us."

_Well, that's just great,_ Sarah thought sourly. _It's not enough that I can't even help bring down an elk, but now I've got to go after _bear? _Why can't I just stick to rabbits?_

Sarah found she was good at rabbits. So far, she'd managed to catch seven of them, almost by accident—James teased her that they must be suicidal, because they seemed to just throw themselves into her jaws. When it came to larger prey, though, she was a complete mess. Oh, becoming a mighty rabbit hunter hadn't made her overconfident; she knew there was still a lot she had to learn. So, when her hunting pack went after elk, she hung back and watched. Unfortunately, the few times she actually tried to help—nothing major, just positioning herself to block off the prey's path, or similar—it always seemed to go wrong. The last time, the stupid bull actually jumped over her, providing the perfect shot at his jugular. However, coward that she was, Sarah panicked and ducked. It took them three hours to track and bring it down after that. The Beta had been pissed about it for the rest of the next day.

"Why are we suddenly going after bear?" wondered one of the other werewolves.

"Apparently the population has been unusually high for the past few years, and it's starting to affect the balance of the land. Alrik was approached this morning and asked if his pack would help thin it out—"

"Asked by whom?" interrupted someone else.

"It isn't important," Gerik replied. "What is important is that because of this, my pack will be switching prey for the remainder of the trip. Isegrim's pack will stick to elk and other, smaller, prey. Which means there's going to be a few organizational changes."

That perked Sarah up—maybe he'd decide this was too much for her and swap her out. In spite of her earlier mistakes, she did want to improve her skills. True, she could eat rabbit for the rest of her life if she really had to, but knew that wasn't realistic. Besides, they'd still managed to fill their quota, so she doubted there would be much harm in continuing to go out.

"Alec, I want you and Edith to switch places." Edith started to whine, but Gerik cut her off. "You can't hesitate when you go after bear, and you're too new to hunting. Sarah—" Sarah automatically sat up straighter, prepared to do the obedient thing and cede her place in the Beta's hunting pack to someone more experienced—"you've been hanging back too much, so I want you to stick by me from now on."

She immediately deflated, not bothering to hide her disappointment. _Why not hang a piece of salmon around my neck while he's at it? At least I'll die faster that way._

She didn't miss the look of pure hatred Edith shot in her direction, either. She wasn't surprised Gerik swapped Edith out—if there was anyone worse at hunting than Sarah, it was the newly-flipped female. She hadn't managed to catch anything yet, not even a rabbit. _She would if she actually tried, though. But rabbits aren't "impressive enough" to bother with. _Well, nuts to her then. The younger female could endure the shame of eating someone else's kill—or not at all—while Sarah dined on rabbit stew.

That was the interesting thing about the hunt that James hadn't explained to her until recently. Sarah had assumed that the meat would be divided evenly among the Pack, but it turned out that was only partially true. Half of everything you killed would be given up to a common pool, but only for those who had remained on the island. The other half was your own property, which meant if you didn't kill anything, you didn't get to take anything. Oh, you could buy meat off those who were successful—if they would sell it to you—but if not, then you were left with the meat case at the local grocery store to fill in the gaps of whatever the rest of your family got from the common pool.

So, three and a half of Sarah's rabbits would be going to someone else, but the remainder was hers. Certainly more than enough for a few meals, though it wouldn't stretch that far. Even though she'd technically helped bring in the elk the Beta's pack had killed, she hadn't set so much of a claw on a single one of them, so she wouldn't qualify for shares of those animals.

On the one hand, the system seemed fair to her. On the other, it was bizarre—Gerik had contributed to the kills of every one of the elk they caught, which meant he'd wind up with way more meat than he needed. James said he would probably sell the excess, or just give it away, seeing it as part of his responsibilities as the Beta, which meant Edith might wind up with some meat anyway. Still, it meant that with every bite, she'd be reminded that it wasn't her kill, and that, since she didn't have any income of her own, she, like Sarah, would be dependent on the charity of others.

* * *

Sarah approached Gerik once he'd sent everyone to lunch with the order to prepare his pack to go out right afterwards. He glanced up at her briefly, then returned his attention to the map in front of him. She stood by, eyes downcast respectfully, and patiently waited for him to speak first.

Gerik circled an area on the map and made a few notes, then threw the pen down and looked up at her.

"Something I can do for you?" he asked.

"Um . . . I was wondering . . . maybe . . ." She trailed off into silence.

"Yes?" he pressed. He had known long before he called everyone together that they'd be having this conversation, and had marshaled his argument accordingly. The female had shown marked improvement since first coming to Changer Island, and he thought she deserved to be rewarded with a bit more familiarity.

"I know you have your reasons . . . but . . . um . . . I don't mean to question . . ."

At this rate, the conversation was going to take forever.

"You want me to switch you out with someone else," Gerik guessed, interrupting her. Sarah's face turned bright red, but she nodded all the same.

"I'm not stupid," she said, the confidence that made her approach him in the first place restored. "I know I'm not very good, and bear hunting sounds dangerous. I don't want to screw up and get other people hurt."

"Or yourself, I would imagine," he added dryly. The color of her face deepened. "No shame in having a healthy survival instinct," he told her brusquely. "But you still don't know what your capabilities are, which, by the way, aren't as limited as you think. If you're up front, you've got me, Laura, Olivia and Caius to keep you from flinching. Now, go grab something to eat, and I'll see you in an hour."

The female bit her lip in annoyance, but nodded and left. Gerik smiled at her retreating back. The biggest mistake people thought about werewolves like Sarah was that weakness automatically meant passivity, or helplessness. It didn't; it just meant they weren't as strong as others. If a human could take on a bear—usually with a gun, but he'd known a few who hunted them with knives alone—then Sarah Hollander definitely could hold her own when surrounded by other werewolves. Especially when that self-same weakness would make her more susceptible to the energy and excitement of those werewolves, egging her on and helping her to forget her fear.

Now Edith, on the other hand, would be a complete disaster on a bear hunt. Sarah might not have much in the way of moves—yet—but at least she stayed focused. The other female was all over the place, and if it hadn't been for the quick reflexes of the other hunters, her antics would have caused serious injury by now. Elk might not have sharp teeth and claws, but they were still hundreds of pounds of muscle on sharp hooves, topped by impressive racks of antlers that the bulls knew damn well how to use against uppity canines.

Gerik planned on having a quiet word with both Niel and the female's parents when they returned to Changer Island. Edith had always been confident, but since surviving her first flip, her sense of self-importance had increased exponentially. Granted, all werewolves' did after they Changed, and the rest of the Pack tolerated it up to a point, certain that they would settle down once they got some more experience under their belt. Edith hadn't been all that obnoxious, which was why she'd been allowed to join the hunt, but her conduct showed her to be too self-consumed to shoulder the burden of responsibility for her fellow hunters.

And it wasn't just Edith, either. Isegrim had complained to him about Felix after the first day, citing many of the same behavioral problems. All of it could be chalked up to youth and the hunt leaders' mistaken assumption that the two youngsters were mature enough to handle themselves away from their territory.

So, the two of them were due a little more one-on-one time with the Keeper. Not as much as Sarah, but then that female needed lessons in more than just Pack etiquette. They seemed to be paying off, though. Gerik couldn't help but laugh at the memory of what turned out to be Sarah's first kill. Ever.

A rabbit darted out of the brush right underneath her nose, and without even thinking about it, the female had darted forward and caught it in her jaws, snapping its neck instantly. In fact, it happened so fast that she didn't even know what to do next. She just stood there, whimpering and looking at all of them in total confusion. It had ended the hunt for the rest of the night, because they couldn't help but crack up, blowing their concentration and making it impossible for any of them to track worth a damn. All anyone had to do was make reference to the expression she'd had on her face, and they'd all wind up rolling on the ground, howling with wolfish laughter. Eventually, she'd left the pack in a huff, trotting smartly back to camp, the carcass swinging from her jaws. Technically, Gerik should have dragged her back, but he let her go. It was just too damn funny.

Gerik sobered as he went to the kitchen to load up for the hunt. There wouldn't be any room for screwups or accidental humor for the rest of the trip. They needed to work fast and hard to bring the bear population down to acceptable levels. Alrik told him that if they didn't reach their quota in the next few days, then a pack of them would need to stay behind while the rest of the hunters took the meat they'd already gathered back to Changer Island. Gerik wouldn't mind a longer hunting trip, but it would be hard going doing just population thinning in the short amount of time they had before the bears turned in for the winter.

* * *

An unusual scent tickled Alrik's nose, and he stopped. Nose to the ground, he tracked it back and forth for a few yards out of sheer curiosity before he finally recognized it.

Boar.

Shocked, he halted in his tracks. There weren't supposed to be feral pigs on the Olympic peninsula. Sure, plenty of humans claimed to have seen them, but in all the years he'd hunted here, he'd never come across the scent trail of one. In fact, the only reason Alrik recognized the scent at all was because an Alpha of a Pack in Oregon sent his grandfather some meat years ago as a gift.

Doubting himself, Alrik put his nose to the ground again and took a long, deep sniff.

Yep. Definitely pig, and there was no way that scent came from a domestic animal that had escaped its pen and was running amok through the forest. Further, he could tell it was a mature boar, fat with glutting itself for the oncoming winter.

The question now, was, what was he going to do about it?

Not that he had to do anything; in fact, it would be better if he left it alone. Any chance to bring the population up in the area would be a good one. Still, it wouldn't hurt to track it down and look at it, would it? They might never get an opportunity like this again, and it would be good experience, if only to keep the scent logged in the Pack's collective memory.

Alrik glanced at his hunters. After chasing bear all night, they were done in, and they still had to drag three kills, each weighing over 400 pounds, the five miles back to camp. They would follow him if he told them to, but was it worth it?

Not really. Besides, he could always come back by himself later. The scent would still be here, and since he didn't intend on killing it, he wouldn't need to bring anyone with him.

_

* * *

I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die . . ._

*Sarah! The heel! Go for the heel, Sarah!*

Sarah darted forward at the back of the lower part of the leg. Her jaw closed around the tendon just above the heel, and she jerked her head back. The tendon gave way with a spurt of blood that hit Sarah in the eye. The bear bellowed and fell to the ground.

_

* * *

I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die . . ._

The bear swiped at Sarah, and she pulled back just in time to prevent her face from being torn off. Distracted by her, it didn't notice Gerik until the Beta had jumped on its back and sunk his teeth into its neck. It roared and tried to shake him off, knocking into her and tossing her out of the fight.

* * *

Sarah let herself be dragged into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair. Laura, Gerik's Second in their hunting pack, slapped an ice pack directly onto Sarah's wrist and wrapped an Ace bandage around it. Sarah was too drained to so much as whimper at the harsh bite of cold against her bare skin.

While attempting to bring down their third bear, Sarah had stepped into a hole and pulled the muscles in her wrist. She was so tired she didn't notice, so wrenched them further by helping drag the kills back to camp. Not that she would have gotten out of it if she said anything. The bears they caught were so big, everyone needed to help bring them in.

"You're excused from dressing the game for today," Laura told her, "but your wrist will be better by tomorrow, so be prepared to go out again."

_Yay for me._

"Open your mouth." Sarah let her lower jaw drop, and Laura stuffed a sandwich in it, then pushed her jaw closed for her. "Eat that, then go wash up and relax before dinner."

Sarah grasped the sandwich with her good hand, bit down, and chewed and swallowed mechanically. Laura gave her a long look, then started prodding her face. She tilted Sarah's head to catch the light, then peeled her eyelids back.

"After dinner, you go right to bed, okay?" she ordered. Sarah nodded and took another bite.

"I hate Gerik," she declared around the sandwich in her mouth, too exhausted to worry about what kind of reaction a comment like that coming from her might cause.

"We all do right now," Laura stated mildly, then patted her on the head. "We'll like him again once this is all over. You did good. And think of it this way—Elise knows a thousand and one mouthwatering recipes for bear. What with your share and what she gets from the common pool, you'll be in culinary heaven for a year."

Laura cleaned up the first aid supplies and left Sarah to finish her sandwich. She contemplated it mindlessly for a moment, then wondered how much trouble it would be if she just put her head down on the table and went to sleep.

Sighing heavily, she shook herself to clear her head. The day wasn't over yet. Well, it was almost over for her, but she still had to figure a way to drag herself upstairs to the bathroom without passing out halfway up and breaking her neck.

One thing was for certain, no matter how delicious Elise's recipes for bear were, Sarah wouldn't be able to keep them down. Not after this.

* * *

Once he'd gotten everyone settled and taken a nap, Alrik headed out to pick up the trail of the boar again. His team had already made their quota, so they would spend the rest of the trip dressing the kills and relaxing. From the sound of things, Gerik's team wasn't far behind. All in all, it had been a successful trip, and Alrik felt comfortable seizing a little time for himself to goof off.

The Olympic National Forest was a rainforest, though it bore little resemblance to the Amazon and African jungles of popular imagination. Still, it made hunting more difficult than other parts of the country, though for werewolves, more difficult meant more interesting.

Unfortunately, the Changer Islanders didn't get much of a chance to hunt on the peninsula for fun. The majority of their excursions were limited to large, sweeping meat-gathering trips like this one. In general, they managed to get enough food to make further excursions unnecessary, and allow the Pack to focus their energy on other pursuits.

So, it wouldn't be long before others followed Alrik's example and used their downtime to simply run through the wild expanse of forest. He normally didn't mind their company, but, for some reason, wanted this to be a private excursion.

Nose to the ground, Alrik followed the boar's trail back and forth across the forest floor. It led up over protruding roots and under bushes. At one point, it followed a hiking trail and crossed a moss-covered bridge that spanned a small creek. When it drew him near areas frequently traveled by humans, Alrik moved slower and split his attention between his quarry and his surroundings. It might be the middle of the night, and he might be deep within the heart of the forest, but there were human hunters camping out and he wouldn't put it past them to decide to go for a midnight stroll. If they caught sight of him—well, calling it a shock would be putting it too mildly.

There weren't supposed to be any true wolves on the Olympic Peninsula; the last of the packs had been wiped out in the 1920s, and the resultant population boom of game had damaged the ecosystem. There had been talk for years about reintroducing wolves, but nothing had come of it so far. On a plus side, that meant there was plenty of game for a good-sized Pack like Changer Island without them having to worry about taking food away from animals that didn't have any other food source. On the downside, it meant that if any human caught a glimpse of them hunting on four feet, it was an instant sensation. In an effort to determine just what was really going on, there would be ecologists and zoologists combing the forests, setting up tripwire and motion-sensor cameras, all to determine just how many wolves there may or may not be. Then, sooner or later, a werewolf would be caught flipping and it would quickly become a nightmare for them all.

Though it had been centuries—okay, to be honest, _decades—_since werewolves actively hunted them, Alrik couldn't imagine humans willingly sharing the planet. Too many thousands of years of bitter rivalry. It was a mercy when his kind finally managed to convince humans they no longer existed. Sure, there were the occasional rumors that came out of the backwoods, but the world was content to dismiss them as the products of intoxication, or merely tall tales told to titillate the masses. However, humans wouldn't be so quick to dismiss solid evidence provided by serious individuals with solid reputations.

So, for the time being, werewolves continued to hide in plain sight, with only a handful of groups of humans knowing of their existence, and only because there was no way to prevent them. In the Changer Island Pack's case, it was the members of the Makah Nation, who, while not exactly liking the werewolves' presence in their land, tolerated it quietly so long as they didn't cause any problems. In fact, it was a small party of Makah that had approached him the other day to ask them to do something about the bears. The Makah gleaned the majority of their livelihood from the sea, but still kept their ears to the ground.

Well, that and the bears had started to make nuisances of themselves in the Makah villages. The Makah were perfectly capable of taking care of the problem on their own, but were still limited by hunting regulations. Having a hunting pack of werewolves in their backyard suddenly became convenient, as, through natural guile as well as using a bit of their own power, they could get away with taking a lot more game.

An hour after leading him back into the underbrush, the boar's scent strengthened noticeably, and Alrik further slowed his pace, keeping his ears pricked. Sure enough, he could detect faint snuffling and grunting off to his left. He circled around to keep downwind and closed in.

He wasn't sure what he would do when he found the boar. Feral pigs tended to be much smaller than their domesticated brethren, but they could still run to several hundred pounds in size. Also, only an idiot would dare take on a wild boar all by himself. So, no matter how tempting it was, Alrik had no intention to attempt to bring it down. His little side trip really was more for the experience of actually seeing one than anything else.

As quietly as possible, Alrik poked his head out from under a bush and glanced around. He had to be close by now—the noises it was making were too loud to be anything but right on top of him. A shadow moved off to his right, and he swung his head. Aha! There it . . . was . . .

_Oh, shit._

* * *

*All we need is one more,* Gerik promised. *Just one more bear, and then we can go home.*

The pack groaned across the shared mental thread, but drew themselves back up on their paws and dutifully put their noses to the ground, Sarah with them.

She'd never been so exhausted in her life. Elk had been easy to find, given their propensity to travel together in herds. Bears, on the other hand, being solitary creatures, were more spread out, so they had to travel farther and farther afield to find them. Which meant it took that much longer to get back home at the end of the day, not a fun task after hours of running and fighting and killing, what with having to lug a thousand pounds of dead weight at the same time.

Caius, the other male at the lead in the hunting pack, had suggested to Gerik this morning that they set up a temporary camp where they could field-dress the carcasses and take them back to the main camp the next day after resting up, but the Beta had shot the idea down.

"I'd go for it if this had come up at the beginning of the week, but now it would just delay us," he explained. Privately, Sarah though he was a sadist. Who cared if they had to stay an extra few days, if that meant they could take it easy?

From the feel of things, it was an opinion the rest of the pack shared. Still, they remained obedient and did as ordered, holding their tongues whenever the Beta decided it was a good idea of chivvy them along.

_A little less cheerleader and a little more drill sergeant, and we'd be a lot happier, _Sarah told herself. At the very least, they'd all feel justified in hating his guts.

One of the others gave a soft woof, and as one, the pack convened on his spot. They caught the scent of the bear in their nose, and then they were off.

Hunting in Wolf Lake was a noisy affair. The werewolves howled and yipped and barked as they chased their prey. The Changer Islanders, on the other hand, hunted in complete silence. The effect was somewhat unnerving, and didn't make all that much sense to Sarah. After all, their prey caught their own scents fast enough, usually, that noise wouldn't make much of a difference. Nevertheless, she followed their lead and tried to remain as quiet as possible.

This time, no doubt to encourage them, as soon as he caught sight of the bear, Gerik sounded a long, mournful howl that the others took up. Sarah let her own voice trumpet out of her throat, and did feel better as the sound vibrated down into her bones.

The bear spun around to face them, pausing in shock for a moment, before bellowing in rage and charging, just like all the others had.

The pack split and flanked the bear, surrounding it on all sides. Alternately biting at his heels and darting away, they drove the animal into a dead end formed by an outcropping of rock.

*Stay sharp,* Olivia told Sarah as she stumbled. *Gerik meant this was the last hunt for the season, not forever.* The older female sounded a little slap-happy to her, and Sarah wasn't all that certain she could rely on the female to pick up the slack for much longer. It didn't help that they were all in the same state at the moment, but she forced herself to concentrate anyway.

One of the bear's hind legs slipped, and he fell onto his backside, sitting on Laura. The werewolf squealed, and the bear sprang up again. Laura staggered a few feet away, working her jaw, then fell over onto her side and lay still. Sarah darted around its sides, harrying the creature and helping to drive it toward the werewolves at its head.

Suddenly, the bear spun on its back paws until it was facing Sarah. It roared in her face, deafening her and freezing her where she stood. It rose up on its hind legs, and a voice in her head screamed at her to strike. She gathered her feet under her and sprang upwards blindly, not sure what she intended to do, just not wanting to get crushed like Laura.

Her body hit the coarse, hairy one of the bear's, and her teeth automatically sunk into its skin. She choked on the blood rushing into her mouth, but held on anyway. The bear roared and staggered backward, then wrapped its front legs around her and began to squeeze.

The air was forced from her lungs, and through the ringing in her ears, she heard her spine pop. _I am _definitely _going to die, _she though as spots appeared before her eyes. Something thudded against the bear's back, and he let go of Sarah as he began to tip over. At the last minute, she twisted to avoid being crushed by his body, and slammed into the ground next to him. The other werewolves swarmed over the bear and finished him off. It was over.

Distantly, Sarah was aware of two of the werewolves flipping and rushing over to help Laura. She wondered how they had the energy for it.

*You can let go now, Sarah,* Olivia said to her. Sarah blinked rapidly, then realized she was still holding onto the bear, her neck twisted at an awkward angle. She tried to open her jaws, but they wouldn't move. Even jerking her head wouldn't free her.

*I'm stuck,* she told the older female miserably. Olivia laughed and flipped to her human skin. She wrapped her hands around Sarah's jaws and tried to pry them loose, causing Sarah to yelp in pain.

"Damn, you've got its skin wrapped around your canines," Olivia observed, laughing harder. Sarah wasn't nearly so amused.

* * *

It's a matter of some debate as to whether there really are feral pigs living on the Olympic peninsula. There are herds of them in other parts of Washington State, but many hunters believe that the western half is pig-free. Other hunters claim to have seen feral pigs, and one on a message board reported that a wildlife ranger claimed more are killed by being hit with cars than hunted down. Some speculate that the pigs people see are domesticated animals that have escaped into the wild. This seems to be a moot point to me, since pigs, like cats, go feral pretty quickly. Unlike cats, however, it only takes one or two generations for domesticated pigs to physically change their appearance so they resemble their naturally feral cousins, and the only way to identify which is which is through genetic profiling.

The bear population on the Olympic peninsula appears to be healthy, though as far as I know, it isn't _over_populated. I employed artistic license for that point.

The Makah Nation reservation is located at the northwestern tip of the Olympic peninsula. I couldn't find out if they do much bear hunting, as they do primarily live off the sea. However, I wouldn't be surprised if they do. Also, I have no idea how they would react to werewolves in their midst; their toleration of the Changer Islanders is strictly my own invention, and not intended to insult them by assuming anything about them, their culture, or anything else.


	18. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The sound of a large vehicle pulling up to the Alpha's house broke through Brianna's concentration. She paused in the middle of going through the edits for her second book to listen. Doors slammed, and faint male voices informed her the hunters were back. She dropped her pen on top of her desk, ran downstairs and pulled open the front door.

They were two days late, but Niel explained that frequently happened on hunting trips. No matter how well they planned, it always took a little bit longer to meet their quota than anticipated.

Nevertheless, they were here now, and Brianna no longer had to wait to sit down with Alrik and have The Talk.

_Or maybe not,_ she thought when she saw his drawn, exhausted face. He smiled at her wanly, but remained standing next to the truck.

She scrambled for something to say, but all she could come up with was a lame, "good hunting?"

"See for yourself," replied the male werewolf who had come with Alrik, and hopped into the bed of the truck. Obligingly, she stepped down from the porch and circled to the back of the vehicle. Alrik didn't join her.

The male—Brianna hadn't met him before—pulled a large cooler out from the rest and flipped it open. Inside were stacks of cut meat, neatly wrapped in plastic wrap and then stored in extra-large Ziploc bags. Brianna blinked—it was meat, just like they said they would bring back.

"It looks delicious," she commented blandly, not sure what, exactly, the male expected her to say. He grinned at her obvious confusion.

"It's wild boar," he explained. "The only one we've ever caught. The Alpha got him."

Brianna shrieked with delight. She would eat any game, but feral pig was the tastiest, as well as the rarest. All the herds she'd heard about were located in Eastern Washington. Her father and his friends occasionally had gone to hunt them, but they still were a rare treat.

"How much do we get?" she asked, not caring how greedy she sounded.

"It's yours, free and clear," the male replied. "The Alpha took it all by himself—though he needed a little help getting it back to camp—so it doesn't need to be split up between different hunters. And, as for the common pool, well, the Alpha said to take the whole thing out of his share."

Brianna's jaw hung open. An entire boar just for the two of them?

"How much?" she repeated. "How big was it?"

"Oh, it was a good-sized one. Probably around 400 pounds," he estimated. "Of course, it's less now that it's been dressed."

Brianna didn't bother trying to contain her glee. Feral boar could get to that size, but it was rare unless they were hybrids. She ran over to Alrik and threw her arms around his neck. He smiled and returned her embrace.

"What?" she demanded, noticing that he'd winced briefly.

"Nothing major," he replied quietly. "Just a little sore."

"The boar caught his side with its tusk," the male tattled as he closed up the cooler and pushed it to one side.

"It's healed now," Alrik told her firmly, shooting the male a dark look. He ignored his Alpha.

"Well, it stopped bleeding after an hour, sure," he said, "but he's been favoring it for the past three days."

"Let me see," Brianna demanded and started pulling up his shirt. Alrik pushed her hands down, stating that he was fine.

"All I need right now is a hot shower, a meal, and a good night's sleep in a real bed," he told her. Brianna peered at him, eyes narrowed, then stepped back.

"Alright then," she conceded. "I'll help unload everything." He nodded and walked—slowly and leaning heavily on the railing—up the stairs of the porch. Brianna watched him enter the house, then turned back to the male.

"How bad was it really?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Probably not as bad as it looked," he admitted. "The Alpha needed help bringing the boar in because of its size, but he was upright. Still, it's probably worse than he's admitting to." He shot a quick glance at the house, then leaned over and lowered his voice.

"The Alpha's team was pretty lucky—our last couple days, we didn't have to do too much hunting, so he got a lot of rest. That being said, try and get him to take it easy for another few days." Brianna nodded in comprehension. "You also might want to give Michael a call and have him take a look."

Michael normally accompanied the hunters in order to be on the spot when accidents like this happened, but stayed behind this time, because a few of the Pack elders' health was shaky enough he hadn't wanted to leave them for so long.

Brianna assured the male that she'd do that as soon as the meat was offloaded, then pulled down the coolers he slid toward her from the truck bed.

"You know how to cut it up and store it properly, right?" he asked, though without intent to insult her. She nodded, her mind already planning out the rest of the night's schedule. "Alright then. We're dividing up the rest of the meat tomorrow, and there's a few kills that we'll be drawing lots for, so show up early to get your name in."

She thanked him and waved as he drove off, then hauled the coolers into the kitchen. She left them on the floor for the time being, then went upstairs to check on Alrik.

He was in the shower in his own private bathroom. With things between them unsettled, Brianna wouldn't presume to just walk right in without permission—never mind that she'd done that plenty of times before; that was then and this was now—but decided these were extenuating circumstances.

"Are you really alright?" she asked over the sound of the shower. Alrik's head poked out from behind the curtain.

"Yes, I really am fine," he reassured her, though the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise. She held his gaze for a moment, then informed him that she would be calling Michael, just to be sure. He sighed impatiently.

"Indulge me," she begged. "Just a little checkup." He closed his eyes briefly, his face set, then opened them.

"Fine," he agreed and shut the curtain, effectively dismissing her. Brianna blinked—for someone who'd just presented her with a lavish gift, he seemed unusually distant. _Maybe it's just exhaustion, _she told herself, and went back downstairs to make the call.

* * *

"Are you almost finished prodding at me?" Alrik asked tersely. Michael shot him a dark look, and gave his side another poke, just to be contrary.

"Looks like it's just about healed," he stated, straightening up. Alrik pulled his sweater on, his mouth tightening slightly when the injured muscles pulled. "There doesn't appear to be any infection, but I'm going to put you on some antibiotics, anyway. How deep was the gash?"

"About an inch, inch and a half," Alrik admitted.

"That'd account for the soreness, then," the physician informed him, as if Alrik couldn't figure that out for himself. "Let your Wild Child do the heavy lifting for the next few days, okay? And try to avoid anything. . . _athletic_, shall we say?"

Alrik pinned the older male with a glare, but didn't say anything. Michael grinned. "I'm not a fool, Alpha," he explained, "and neither is anyone else. A male doesn't go through the trouble of bringing in a wild boar all by himself just to turn around and give the whole thing to a female unless he's trying to impress her." He cocked his head in the direction of the back of the house, where the kitchen was located on the floor beneath them. "From the sound of things, I'd consider this particular female impressed. No matter how tempting it might be, try to find a way to delay her expressing her gratitude until you're pain-free, eh?"

He chuckled and slapped Alrik on the shoulder congenially. Alrik smiled tightly, and wished that, for once, the physician showed the same wary respect toward him as the rest of the Pack did. Wishful thinking, of course, for which he generally was more grateful—after all, it was hard to treat even someone like him with due deference when you knew the stupid story behind every childhood injury.

The physician left after giving Alrik the antibiotics, though he paused long enough downstairs to repeat his instructions to Brianna. Alrik listened to their conversation with half an ear, concentrating on his own thoughts for the moment.

He knew his temper was a bit frayed, but that was only to be expected after such a long, stressful hunt on which he'd been injured. He downplayed it to the Pack, but it had been quite severe at first. He managed to heal most of it himself, but since healing wasn't one of his strengths, it used more power than it would for anyone else. Then, combined with all the other work they'd had to do, he simply hadn't had time to recover completely. All he really needed was a lot of sleep and a few days of leisure, and he'd be back in top form. Unfortunately, until that happened, everyone else had to deal with him.

And it didn't help that, now he was back in her presence, all his anxieties regarding himself and Brianna had returned. He'd been able to push them aside during the week on the peninsula, but now, without anything else to distract him, they returned in full force.

When he first saw her, standing on the porch and returning his gaze, her expression as blank as his no doubt had been, he experienced a moment of panic. He knew she had used the week to come to some kind of decision about them, and worried that his gesture with the boar meat—a somewhat brainless gesture typical of males, as Michael pointed out so amusingly—might have been presumptuous. The fact that she'd been delighted with his gift had only been somewhat reassuring; her reaction simply might have been spur-of-the-moment, and she now could be reconsidering it.

Still, he relished the memory of the feel of her body pressed against his, and it was only his exhaustion that prevented him from laying claim to her mouth in a possessive, purely masculine way that expressed his own pleasure at her reaction. Alrik hadn't needed Michael to tell him that he wasn't up to anything physical for the time being, and he wasn't sure if he could stop himself once they got started.

"Alrik! How hungry are you?" Brianna called up the stairs.

_Ravenous for you, _he said silently, but out loud replied, "hungry enough."

Muttering to herself, she climbed the stairs and stuck her head in the doorway. "Could you be a little more specific?" she pressed with a bite to her tone. He couldn't help but smile; leave her alone for more than a few minutes, and her mouth reasserted itself. "I wasn't sure when you'd be back, exactly, so I don't have anything thawed." Alrik refused to have a microwave in the house, so the majority of their meals had to be planned in advance. "Would you be fine with soup and bread, or do you want something more?"

"Something a little more substantial would be nice," he confirmed. "And plenty of fresh vegetables, please." Brianna smiled warmly in comprehension, and he felt his breath hitch.

"I think I can manage that," she assured him. "It'll be awhile, so rest up and I'll tell you when it's ready." She turned and walked back down the stairs.

Sighing, Alrik lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion fall away from his body. Personal frustrations or not, it was good to be home.

* * *

Elise smiled as she listened to the two younger females clamber up the apartment stairs, chattering to one another.

"Sounds like you had a good time," she said when they entered the kitchen, restraining herself from remarking on the strong odor of unwashed clothes and seldom-washed bodies.

"It was an experience," Kit said dryly.

"Well, go throw your clothes in the hamper and hop in the shower," Elise told them, then, unable to stop herself, added, "maybe just throw them right in the wash. And one of you can use my bathroom. It pulls water from a different boiler than the main one."

They trotted off to do her bidding, and she began pulling food from the refrigerator. If she remembered the last time she went on one of the trips, the idea of any kind of substantial meat wouldn't be welcome for the next few days, though there was little doubt they'd enjoy rehashing every second of the hunting.

Less than an hour later, Kit and Sarah rejoined her, hair wet and smelling much better.

"It is so nice to be dressed in something clean for the first time in forever," Sarah observed, rubbing her denim-clad leg. "I know space is limited and everything, but next time, I'm going to sneak some more clothes." Elise chuckled as she stirred batter.

"I thought we'd have breakfast for dinner," she told them, and from their reactions, she gathered her assumption had been correct. "Think you can tolerate some bacon and sausage, or would that be pushing it?"

"Just so long as it's pork," Kit commented. "I don't think I could stand anything else at the moment."

"I thought you guys got some wild pig?" asked Sarah. Elise stopped and faced them, disbelief written clear on her face.

"There aren't pigs on the Olympic peninsula," she said.

"Looked like pig to me," Kit told her, shrugging. "Flat head, tusks, short straight tail."

"That's feral pig alright," Elise said. "How many of them did you catch? What's the share to the common pool going to be?"

"Nothing," Kit said. "There was only the one, and the Alpha caught it. He claimed the whole thing and said to take the common half out of the rest of his share."

"What's he going to do with an entire pig?" Sarah wondered, her nose scrunching up and disappointment lacing her scent. Elise could sympathize; it had been a long time since she tasted feral pig.

"Eat it, I imagine," Kit replied tartly.

"Yeah, but won't he get sick of it?"

"He's got plenty to choose from. What he's going to do with all the rest of his share is what I want to know."

"The hunting pack leaders always have more than they need," Elise commented. "They'll probably sell off the extra to whomever needs it. What did you two get?"

And they were off. Elise dutifully oohed and aahed over their descriptions of the hunts, though genuinely was impressed by the bear. She was surprised they went after that animal this late in the year, but the need to thin out the population was explained to her.

"Besides, there were plenty of laggards to choose from," Kit explained, "though I think everyone would have wished there weren't by the end of it."

Sarah groaned. "Tell me about it. I almost got my spine crushed, and one of the females in my pack was sat on. She's fine, but she needed a whole day to recover before she could move again, and the bruises are finally fading."

And now Elise was shocked. Who's brilliant idea was it to take Sarah bear hunting? She hadn't been happy about letting her go at all, but Niel assured her that the younger female had improved enough that he thought she could be trusted without them hovering over her. Still, knowing how to behave was a far cry from being able to be relied on in the field, especially when the prey they were going after was as dangerous as bear.

She refrained from commenting, though, not wanting to chip away at the confidence she saw glowing in Sarah's eyes in spite of her grumbling.

"Well, at least there'll be plenty of that to go around, from the sound of things," she stated instead. "Set the table, Sarah." Immediately, she sprang to her feet and started pulling dishes and silverware out and arranging it on the table. _Looks like her confidence isn't the only thing to have improved, _Elise noted, pleased.

"So what's been happening here while we were gone?" Kit asked. Elise shrugged and turned the bacon and sausage frying on the stove.

"It's been pretty quiet what with half the Pack gone," she said. "Little things here and there. Oh, I almost forgot—though why I would is beyond me. A female from the Thicket Pack showed up about two days ago, asking for Gerik." Though she didn't move, Elise noticed Kit's ears pricked up.

"What's the Thicket Pack?" Sarah asked.

"Gerik's old Pack, down in Texas," Elise explained. "It's located right next to the Big Thicket National Preserve. It's one of the biggest, oldest Packs in the country."

"What did she want with Gerik?" Kit wondered, though Elise wasn't fooled by her bland tone, and wondered what else happened on the hunting trip.

"She wouldn't say, beyond that it was a family affair." She decided to give the bee's nest a gentle poke, and added, "though she did claim to be an old flame of Gerik's." Kit straightened up in her chair, and a disconcerted look flashed across her face. Sarah snorted derisively as she added glasses to the place settings.

"Well, he's back now, and she can get her business over with and get lost," she commented acidly. Elise's eyebrow shot up in surprise, but a quick glance between the two younger females suggested that Sarah was unwittingly picking up on and reacting to Kit's emotions.

"I suppose you're right," is all Elise had to say on the matter. "How many waffles do you want?"

* * *

"Thank you for the boar," Brianna said as soon as she and Alrik sat at the table.

"You asked me to bring you something special," he replied.

"I did? When?"

"The morning we left."

"Oh. That's right." Brianna's cheeks pinked faintly. "I'd forgotten about that what with everything else. I, um . . . we can talk about it later. You're tired."

Alrik was more than a little curious about that statement, but let it lay for the time being. They ate in silence for awhile, but he couldn't help but notice that while he was relatively relaxed, Brianna seemed to get more and more agitated as the meal went on. Eventually, it started to affect him, so he asked her what the problem was.

"Oh, nothing really," she demurred. "Well, maybe . . ." Sighing with frustration, she laid her fork down and propped her elbows on the table, knitting her fingers together. "Niel will want to talk to you about this anyway, and I'd prefer if you heard it from me first."

Alrik swallowed a bite of food and forced himself to quell his rising alarm.

"The day after you all left, I went into Seattle to meet with my sister," Brianna told him. "Niel knew about it. He went with me. Um, while we were there, my sister and I did this thing to help me remember what happened while I was on the Vicodin."

"'Thing'?" Alrik repeated.

"We merge our consciousnesses and she goes through and sort of repairs the damage the painkillers do. They're kind of like these big blocks stuck in the way, and she removes them. Anyway, Niel never heard of it, and he wanted to see it, so he went along for the ride. Anyway, the point is, I remember everything now. And—"

Alrik interrupted her, hung up on one point. "Niel was in your head?" he asked coldly. Brianna blinked, clearly surprised by his tone.

"Well, sort of," she explained. "It was more like he was in my sister's head, and she carried him with her when she went into my head. He couldn't do anything, not like her, but it's totally fine. We've done it before. Not the piggybacking thing, but it was pretty easy to figure out. Everyone's safe."

"Niel was in your head," Alrik repeated softly. "You're telling me that another male was in your head, observing your memories of what happened two weeks ago between you and me, when we were alone in this house?"

Brianna stared at him with wide eyes, finally comprehending his mood. She swallowed hard, and sat up straight, pushing her hands into her lap.

"Okay," she said. "I get it. But it's okay. It was just—he never heard of a memory retrieval before, and wanted to observe it for the Keeper's records. That's it. There was nothing personal about it, and Elizabeth was there the whole time. I don't think he knew what my memories were going to be—I didn't know—but he's promised to keep the records sealed for our lifetimes, and I said I'd skin him alive if he told anybody about it. Does that help?"

"A little," Alrik said, barely restraining his temper. It was obvious that Brianna hadn't intended any kind of insult, but Niel should have known better.

"Alright, look, I wasn't happy about it either, but I didn't have any choice. I needed to get to those memories, and this was the only way Niel would let me off the island. He probably was worried I was going to try to run away or something." Alrik pushed himself back from the table and stood up. "Shit! I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't."

"I know that," Alrik said tightly and turned to exit the kitchen. Behind him, he heard Brianna scramble out of her chair.

"Could you just listen to me please?" she begged. "It's not important! I know it sounds like it is, but it isn't. Damnit, I love you!"

Alrik halted in the kitchen doorway and slowly turned back around to stare at her in shock.

"What?" he asked in a whisper, his anger at the Keeper draining away.

"Shit! I didn't mean to say it like that!" Brianna covered her face with her hands and stamped her foot. "I'm so bad at things like this," she moaned. Alrik pulled her hands away and forced her to look at him. Her face was bright red, and she refused to meet his eyes.

"Say that again," he demanded.

"Come back to the table," she urged him. "Come, sit down. Please?" She tugged at his wrists, leading him back to the alcove. He let her push him back into his chair, and watched her as she resumed her own seat across from him.

Brianna took a deep breath, then began speaking:

"I'm not very good at this, so just bear with me, okay?" she began. "I know, it sounds ridiculous. I'm a writer and I should be so great with words, but that's only on paper, where you can go back and change things around and make it perfect—and I'm babbling, I know. Just—please, just hear me out.

"I . . . I'm not romantic. I never have been, and after I Changed, with the whole being a throwback thing, I never expected to have something like this. To be with someone. And—I'll be honest with you. I've had boyfriends in the past. I kind of had one right before we left Wolf Lake, but that was all just fun. I never expected any of those relationships to go anywhere, since I wasn't supposed to be able to have kids, and no matter what anyone might say, that's what they would have wanted.

"The point is, I always held myself back, so I never really knew how I'd react when I met someone I really wanted to be with, or even what that type of person that would be. So, I couldn't recognize you or what you meant to me, and I totally should have, even without having those memories. God, it started all the way back to that day in the street, and maybe I would have seen it if you hadn't given me that horrible line—" Alrik bit his lip to hide his smile. It _had _been a bad line, and if he had known beforehand that he would bump into her, he wouldn't have said it at all.

"—Anyway, _the point is, _I'm just not good at any of this. It's totally new to me, and everything has happened so fast, that I just didn't know how to deal with it. From what other people have said, and the few things you said, you've been waiting for this to happen for a long time. You knew it was going to happen. I didn't. When you said I was all over you for five days straight, it really freaked me out. I knew you weren't lying, but not being able to remember why I did that just made everything worse for me. So I had to do this just to remember what it was that happened and figure what, exactly, was going on with me.

"And now I do know." She looked at him for the for the first time since she started talking, breathing heavily from the exertion of her outpouring.

"What is it that you know?" Alrik asked quietly. From her body language and scent, he knew exactly what she was talking about, but still wanted to hear it.

"That you took the time to be patient with me and take care of me, even though I was horrible to you," she said. "I didn't trust you, and while I certainly had my reasons for it, it wasn't fair. But you never held that against me. Maybe it's because you're an Alpha, and that's what Alphas do, but it didn't feel like that to me at the time, and it really didn't feel like it later. No one's ever treated me like that before. I've always been the bitch who lives on the Hill that everyone's afraid of, or is friends with because they don't want to be my enemy, or the family disappointment. Even my own twin, who's been the only person who really likes me for me, is scared of me at times. And you've never been scared of me. In fact—correct me if I'm wrong—but from what I've seen, you're only really yourself around me. When you're around everyone else, you're the Alpha and the Lord of the Moon, and you never let anyone in. But you let me in, and I love that about you, because there's no one else that I've ever known that I want—that I _need—_to let me in like that. You make me feel like it's okay to be myself, and it makes me so happy to know that you feel that way about me, too. And I never want to stop feeling that.

"That's what I know," she finished quietly.

Alrik reached across the table and took hold of her hands, rubbing their backs with his thumbs.

"What should we do about this, then?" he finally said. "You are right, this has happened very fast, even for me, who supposedly has been expecting this to happen. Which, by the way, you're wrong about. I wanted it. I hoped it would happen, but I always knew the likelihood of it was very slim. It's not easy being even a little bit different from everyone else, as you well know. So, if you had your wish, how would this play out?"

"Ideally, I'd like it if someone could just wave a magic wand and we could go straight to the happy, settled part, and bypass all this awkward, but that's not going to happen, is it?"

Alrik shook his head. "No, sorry. My magic wand's in the shop this week."

"Oh, you actually have a magic wand?" Brianna asked, trying to inject some levity into the situation. He smiled.

"Oh, yeah. It's a nice one, too. Has a crescent moon on the end of it and everything, but it's made out of chocolate, so it doesn't last very long. I keep needing to replace it."

Brianna giggled. "Well, in that case, since we're going to have to wait for it to come back so you can just 'poof' everything better, I suppose we're going to have to find a way to occupy ourselves."

"I regret to inform you that Michael has banned me from doing anything more physical than picking up a piece of tissue off the floor," Alrik said ruefully. Brianna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know all about that," she told him. "Michael was kind enough to warn me about it. I actually was thinking of something a little more pedestrian."

"And what's that?"

"Well, if my memories have all been retrieved properly, you've never actually kissed me. I've always kissed you."

"I do believe you are correct," Alrik said, liking where this was heading.

"So, if it's not too much trouble, I think I'd like to know what it's like to be kissed by you."

"No trouble at all."

He tugged on her hands, and she obliged him by rising from her chair and circling around the table. He pulled her into his lap and slipped an arm around her waist, then buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. She made a soft sound of contentment and tilted her head back into his hand. Alrik leaned forward slightly and lightly nipped at her lower lip, causing her mouth to open. His tongue slipped between her lips, and she moaned and arched against him, twining her own arms around his neck and leaning into him.

He sighed as all his uncertainty slipped away and he loosened the chains of his self-control. His power thus freed, it targeted Brianna and wrapped around her. She shuddered in his arms, and he felt her own power unleash as her mouth slanted over his with increased passion. Alrik groaned as she nipped his tongue while her power invaded him, overwhelming his senses, and he happily drowned in her very essence


	19. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The knocking at the door penetrated the sound of the shower. Gerik swore to himself, then resolved to ignore it. He'd had a trying eight days and deserved a little time to himself. He certainly deserved a shower, at the very least. Werewolves didn't mind living with their own funk when they were in their wolf skins, but as soon as they flipped to human, it became a constant preoccupation, more so than even hunger or exhaustion, and Gerik was preoccupied with all three right now.

The knocking sounded again, but he continued to ignore it. Since he didn't feel anything unsettling from the land, whomever it was could wait a little bit longer.

When the water started to cool noticeably, he switched off the shower and toweled himself dry. He ran his fingers through his short hair to scatter the last of the water, then walked into the bedroom to get fresh clothes. Once there, though, the bed beckoned invitingly, and he realized he'd only be awake long enough to grab a bite to eat, so decided to go without. Besides, the house was warm enough, especially compared to the hunting lodge. He made a mental note to check with Alrik if the Pack could afford to have better insulation installed. Even the body heat of his fellow Pack members hadn't been enough to stave off the chill.

Gerik headed downstairs and into the kitchen. He took a beer out of the refrigerator, popped off the cap and took a long swallow, then sat the bottle down on the island countertop. The refrigerator yielded little ready-made food; he'd eaten most of it before leaving on the hunting trip, and gave away what would have spoiled. There still was the better part of a wedge of parmesan, though, so he pulled it out and set it down next to his beer.

The freezer contained pre-made meatballs, and he pulled them out and added a handful to a pot with some marinara, which he placed on a burner. Pasta wasn't what he craved at the moment, but it was fuel and would have to suffice until tomorrow. He set a second pot, this one filled with water, on another burner and flipped the knob. That accomplished, he leaned against the island and drank his beer, waiting for the water to boil.

The knocking sounded again, this time sounding more like pounding. Gerik groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. They just wouldn't take the hint; time to chase them off himself.

Striding across the room, he yanked open the front door.

"What?" he demanded, but his growl died in his throat when he saw who it was.

"My, my, Geri, this wasn't _quite _the reunion I'd pictured, but I can't say I'm disappointed," giggle the female on the threshold. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Gerik's only response was to slam the door in her face.

* * *

"You do realize I'm still going to kill Niel," Alrik told Brianna conversationally. They were cuddled up on the couch, with him lounging against one arm, Brianna sprawled on top of him, careful not to put any weight on his bad side.

They both still had most of their clothes on, having managed to stop divesting each other of their garments long enough to realize they were going too far. Not that Brianna would have objected; apparently Alrik didn't have to work too hard to make her throw away her resolve to take things slowly between the two of them.

Not that she thought that was such a bad thing. At least, not with him.

Nevertheless, after Alrik wrenched his side twisting the wrong way, they both accepted that taking it slow would have to be the rule of thumb for the next few days. She reminded herself that, theoretically, this would only make the main event that much more enjoyable. However, that was only a theory. Waiting in frustration could—and frequently did—cause said main event to be rushed, sloppy, and completely without finesse, which would be a major letdown.

_Oh, well. We'd just have to keep doing it until we get it right, _she thought, then Alrik's words penetrated her brain. She lifted her head and stared at him.

"You aren't serious, are you?" she wondered. He felt relaxed to her—well, about ninety-five percent of him was relaxed—if he'd been any other werewolf, she'd say he was joking. However, this was Alrik, who could plot violence with the same amount of enthusiasm as he would use to discuss the finer points of the stock market. Brianna had seen him do both.

Alrik considered her words before answering. "Well, maybe not kill," he conceded. "Niel is rather useful in his position of the Keeper. Besides, the only person we have to replace him is Ben, and he was more than happy to step aside for Niel in the first place.

"So, maybe I'll just beat him within an inch of his life," he concluded. Brianna propped herself up on her arms and looked into his eyes.

"You are serious," she stated. "Why? This isn't just about him being in my head. Lots of guys have been in my head over the years, and you're not threatening them."

"One, they didn't force you to let them in," Alrik ticked off. "Two, I doubt they 'merged their consciousness' with you. That sounds a lot more intimate than the usual mind-to-mind communication. Three, as soon as he realized how deep he'd be going, he should have pulled out right there. He knew very well I was interested in you and that, in spite of our argument, the possibility of us having a relationship was still open. In other words, he poached on my claim. Four, even though I've known him my whole life, there are plenty of things about my personal life I don't want him to know about."

Brianna's arms were getting tired of supporting her, so she sat up all the way and folded her legs under her.

"Okay. I concede that those are all valid reasons to be pissed at him," she stated, "but maybe you should take into account that, _one, _he may have talked me into letting him piggyback on my sister's consciousness, but he didn't 'force' me to do anything. Nobody forces me, which is something you should keep in mind for the future. _Two, _there was nothing intimate about it. His interest was purely professional, and his approach clinical. You might as well get mad at my gynecologist for giving me a pap smear. _Three, _same answer. His interest in the memory retrieval had nothing to do with me in any kind of physical sense. _Four, _I already threatened to eat him alive if he told anyone what he saw in my memories—or even if he mentioned that we did this at all—so you don't have to even lift a finger. I know this is a whole masculine pride thing with you, but they're my memories, so I'd say I have the bigger claim."

Alrik smiled indulgently, which only made her want to smack him. Or kiss him, if that would wipe the smug look off his face. Maybe both, just to confuse him.

Before he could respond, the front door slammed open, and they both turned in the direction of the front of the house. Seconds later, Gerik marched into the sitting room, dragging a female behind him, whom he then threw to the floor.

"I refuse to deal with this," he growled.

"Um, Gerik?" Brianna ventured.

"What?" he snapped.

"Could you put some pants on, please?"

* * *

Kit tossed and turned on her bed, unable to block out the memory of Elise's voice as she _so casually_ informed her about the sudden arrival of Gerik's former fiancée.

Oh, yes, she'd been more than happy to pony up all the salacious details of Gerik's involvement with the female, no matter that neither Kit nor Sarah had asked for them.

_It's like she was purposely trying to piss me off._

Apparently, Gerik and this cheap, bottle-blond slut had been quite the item for years when he lived with the Thicket Pack. But then Pack politics had broken them up. Or, rather, the female's desire to be Alpha Female and Gerik's desire to pull up roots and relocate. So, the bitch dumped him and slimed her way into his brother's bed. And now the brother was dead, the cow thought she could wiggle her ass and Gerik would just take her back.

Well, Kit may not know much about Gerik compared to some, but she did know he wouldn't fall for that.

Well, she _hoped _he wouldn't fall for that.

Alright, to be honest, there was no reason why he wouldn't. After all, Gerik was male, and males tended to get stupid about females when they weren't having their carrots waxed on a regular basis. It was the easiest way to manipulate them into doing what you wanted.

_Besides, it's not like he was getting much in the way of encouragement elsewhere, _Kit thought bitterly as she flipped onto her back and glared at the ceiling. Immediately, she chided herself for her spinelessness. After all, it wasn't as if _he _was giving _her _a great deal of encouragement, either. Yeah, there was that whole 'I want you like I've never wanted anyone else before' thing, but its sweetness was undercut by him mauling her ten seconds later. He just hadn't given her enough time to make up her mind, is all. Or do anything that suggested he was a sensible choice for a mate.

_But you liked it anyway, didn't you, when he growled down Alec for daring to flirt with you. You liked it that a male thought you were worth fighting for._

Kit told herself to shut up and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to get some sleep again.

_And, he's a great kisser, isn't he?_

Her eyes snapped open again, and she snarled at herself. Yeah, he was such a great kisser that she ended up defending herself with what she thought was a knife, albeit subconsciously. If she paid attention to the braids, they were telling her that giving in to Gerik would be the end of any kind of independence she could lay claim to. Oh, he wouldn't be nasty about it—he'd just bundle her up and keep her sheltered from the world, all to protect her. But that wasn't the right way to live; eventually, she'd just grow smaller and smaller until she disappeared, leaving behind a shell that might look and sound like her, but wasn't her at all.

But if she didn't choose him, she might remain independent, but always be alone. That much had been evident from the second vision the braids had given her.

No, the important thing was to be with him, but still be herself. Without being too self-reliant. It was a fine balancing act, and one that would take time to learn. She needed that time.

Unfortunately, with the arrival of the ex, time had just run out.

_Maybe I'm being too negative, _she thought. _Maybe he really will see through her. After all, she _did _dump him for his brother. His older brother, at that. Males take that sort of thing personally. And the only reason she's here now is because his brother is dead and she wants to stay being Alpha Female. He has to know that._

_Doesn't he?_

Shit. She'd wanted to put off talking to him until she had formulated at least one rational argument, so she didn't sound like she was babbling at him. Babbling was never attractive, and males _really _had a hard time following your logic.

Looks like that wasn't going to happen, though. If she wanted to stay in the game, then she had to make her intentions known. Now.

Kit threw the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

* * *

Gerik pulled on the sweatpants Alrik tossed at him and explained how Joanna showed up on his doorstep, arrogantly convinced that he would receive her with open arms.

"What the hell is she even doing here, anyway?" he demanded. "Who's genius idea was it to let her on the island?"

"I didn't even know she was here," Alrik told him. To Gerik's questioning look, he explained, "I've been a bit busy since we came back." Gerik sniffed the air, then cocked an eyebrow. Alrik ignored him.

They left the intrusive Joanna alone with Brianna, whose approach to dealing with the female was to ignore her. They could hear her sniffling out excuses, but the lack of response told them Brianna wasn't interested.

Now that Gerik was properly clothed, they rejoined the females. Alrik sat back down on the couch next to Brianna, while the Beta took up position in the doorway, legs spread and arms crossed over his chest. Alrik forced himself to look calm, but secretly readied himself to spring, just in case Gerik lost his temper again. He had little sympathy for the female, but the Thicket Pack was old and respected; allowing one of its members to be abused—no matter how much she may deserve it—while she was a guest of Changer Island wasn't the best course of action.

"Now let's try this again," he stated blandly. "To begin with, how did you even get on the island in the first place?"

"Niel approved it," Brianna answered.

"Well, then let's haul Niel up here so he can explain why he'd do something so bone-headed," Gerik snapped. Alrik tensed immediately.

"Yeah, that's not such a great idea," Brianna told him. "Besides, she told us she had some family business with you that needed to be discussed in person. She was only one person, so no one thought anything about it."

"And has she behaved herself while she's been our guest?" Alrik asked.

"More or less," Brianna responded. "She hasn't been very polite—apparently we're a bit too back-woods for her taste, which somehow means we aren't supposed to have the brain power to understand her when she's being insulting—but she hasn't actually gone out of her way to piss anyone off. If that's what you mean." Alrik nodded.

"And what were you doing at the Beta's house this evening?" he asked the female directly. She sniffed and dabbed at her face with a tissue. She was still on the floor, though Brianna had unbent enough to allow her to sit up.

"I was just going to say hello," she responded. "Ger and I have known each other a long time, and it's been forever since we've seen each other. How is going to see an old friend a violation of hospitality?"

Alrik sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. _"Mrs._ Dreyer, are you aware of the recent communications between our Pack and yours?" At her nod, he continued. "So, as the _former _Alpha Female of the Thicket Pack, you should also be aware that coming here, uninvited, after Gerik already rejected your offer of leadership, looks like harassment?"

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. "I know how it went down," she said, her voice stronger than it had been a moment ago. "But that was just the elders. I just thought that if I tried, Gerik might change his mind. It's the elders who caused the trouble, after all. They're old and set in their ways, and they got a lot more power over the Pack under Henrik than they should have. But that's not the way the rest of the Pack is." She turned and looked up at Gerik imploringly. "We need a good Alpha to lead us. All we have is Torolf, and he's totally wrong for us. The land won't stand for it. Even he knows it. He's been planning to leave for some time now." Gerik snorted in disbelief. "It's true!" she insisted.

"Were you aware of this?" Alrik asked Brianna.

"That's pretty much what she told Niel," she confirmed. "He had me sit in on the phone call. Said it would be good practice," she added with a sidelong glance.

*That doesn't quite assuage my 'masculine pride',* he told her privately. Through their link, he could feel her grumpiness at hearing this and smiled slightly. The Thicket female notice it and took it as encouragement to go on.

"And I must say that I have been quite distressed at the inhospitable treatment I have experienced," she whined. Alrik's smile slipped immediately, but this she failed to notice. "My mate might be dead, but I'm still the Alpha Female of the Thicket Pack. I have rights. I shouldn't be stuffed away in that shack you call a guest house—"

*She demanded to be housed here in the Alpha's house,* Brianna explained. *Threw what I believe is termed 'a polite fit' over it when I turned her down on the grounds that you weren't here.*

"—forced to wait for days before I am allowed to present my case—"

*She wanted Niel to hear it and make an executive decision in your stead, without consulting Gerik.*

Alrik heard enough and raised a hand to silence the female. She ignored it and kept rambling on, until Brianna cleared her throat roughly. She glared at her, but did stop speaking.

"Issues of hospitality aside, I'd like to clear up one matter before proceeding to anything else," Alrik said. "You claim your intention was to make a formal request, in person, correct?" She nodded. "Again, as the _former_ Alpha Female of Thicket Pack—"

"Why do you keep saying that?" she interrupted. "It's not true. I am—"

"The _former _Alpha Female," he repeated quellingly, "you would know very well that you aren't allowed any private contact with any member of a Pack you are visiting until you have formally been greeted by that Pack's Alpha and granted an appointment to make your request."

"But surely that doesn't count when I'm actually family to one of the Pack members," she argued prettily, batting her eyelashes at Alrik.

"Yes it does," Gerik answered for his Alpha. "And you're family only because my brother was too cunt-struck to know better." She gasped, and Alrik shot Gerik a sharp look as a reprimand. The Beta ignored him. "You didn't show up tonight to catch up with me, you wanted to seduce me. I could smell it. The fact that you think I'm so goddamn stupid as to fall for it only shows you're just as ignorant as my father. You killed anything that might have been between us when you chose power over me. And I'm not totally unaware of what's been going on down in Texas. The elders aren't the only ones who've been throwing their weight around. If Thicket is in trouble, it's of its own making. The Pack made its choice when it picked Hank over me, and now it's got to live with it. And so are you.

"Besides, I've never been partial to sloppy seconds," he added nastily. Joanna jumped to her feet and lunged at him, but he easily pushed her away. Alrik quickly placed himself between them, holding out his arms to fend both of them off.

"Alright, that's enough," he stated flatly. "Personal opinions of you aside, Mrs. Dreyer, I'd say you have your answer. Gerik will not return to Thicket to take up the reins of leadership. Now, in the interest of maintaining peace among my own Pack, I must ask you to leave tomorrow morning."

"But—"

"Don't force me to make it immediate," he threatened, then softened his tone. "Your Pack needs you there, not here," he told her. "An Alpha will come to lead you, but until that time, you need to shoulder the responsibilities your position, former or otherwise, demands. This matter is closed."

With that, Alrik took Gerik by the arm and dragged him off into the house, mentally directing Brianna to escort their unwanted visitor back to the guest house. Brianna sighed heavily and pushed herself off the couch.

"Come on, then," she said to Joanna. "I'll walk you back into town."

"It can't end like this," the female declared. "He has to listen. I'll make him listen."

"No, you won't," Brianna stated. "You're going to behave yourself and spend the rest of the night in the guest house, and tomorrow, you're going back where you came from."

"And just who do you think you are?" snarled Joanna.

"I'm the Alpha Female of Changer Island," Brianna told her.

* * *

Gerik was about to climb into bed when he heard someone knocking at his front door.

Someone was going to die for this.

Storming downstairs, he threw the door open and—

Kit.

Kit was at his front door.

The snarl died in his throat as she pushed past him and marched inside.

"Where is she?" she demanded.

And now Kit was in his house. Alone. Kit was alone. In his house. With him.

"Where is she, damnit!" she yelled. Gerik blinked.

"Who?" he wondered, his brain still trying to catch up with events. This was either a good thing, or a _very _good thing. He couldn't decide.

"That bitch who thinks she can just walk back into your life and snap her fingers and you'll automatically heel," she explained in a nasty tone of voice. Turning her attention away from him, she began to search the first floor, opening closets, peering behind chairs, and even lifting up the couch cushions.

"Kit, who are you talking about?" Gerik asked a little more firmly, trying to take something resembling control over the situation—and thus himself—before he wound up clubbing her over the head and dragging her upstairs.

"Her! Whatsername! Your old fiancée, the one who married your brother," Kit said, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"Look, I get it. I haven't been very forthcoming about how I feel about you, and I can understand how that would make you think I wasn't interested. And the truth is, I _am _interested, but not how things have been going between us recently. And it didn't help that, technically, we've been ordered to stay away from one another, so how would you know? But the thing is, if I remember correctly, until I actually tell you to your face to get lost, once you've made your interest known, you don't get to so much as look at another female, right?" When he didn't say anything, she stormed back up to him and shoved her face in his. _"Right?"_

"Um, yeah," he agreed. "Technically, that's the way it's supposed to work. Of course, it doesn't . . . always . . ." He trailed off as she whirled around and began ripping through his house again.

"Right," she affirmed and pulled a potted plant out of the corner to look behind it. "And I haven't said yea or nay yet, so that means for the foreseeable future, you are _off _the market." She bent over and peered under the table, pushing a few chairs out of the way to get a better view. Gerik couldn't stop himself from noticing how shapely her ass was, though managed to limit himself to at that.

"I may be a Morris, but that doesn't mean I don't deserve the same consideration as everyone else," she muttered as she moved on to the kitchen. Gerik trailed after her, half-fascinated by her display of possessiveness, half-confused as to why she'd feel it in the first place. "I mean, that was my grandfather, not me. Not even my parents had anything to do with that! But _no, _Kit's a Morris, which means no matter what else she is or does, we can just push her around and take whatever of hers we want, and she can't say a damn thing about it. Well, _fuck that._"

"Kit, what are you talking about?" _More importantly, does anyone else know you're here?_ She straightened up, then marched back over to him.

"What am I talking about? I'm talking about the fact that until I say otherwise, _you are mine. _Got it? And if that scrawny whore thinks she can take you away from me, then I will rip her bleached hair out by the roots and shove it up her bony ass."

She paused in her tirade and looked down.

"You're naked."

"Yeah. It's my house, and I can walk around naked if I want. Besides, I was just about to go to sleep."

Her head snapped back up.

"Bedroom," she whispered, then shoved him aside and raced up the stairs. Shaking his head, Gerik couldn't help but laugh. Of all the outcomes of Joanna's surprise visit, this wouldn't have even occurred to him. He followed Kit at a more sedate pace, surprisingly calm in spite of the fact that she was tearing his house to shreds.

He leaned against the bedroom door frame and watched her peer into every nook and cranny before speaking up.

"There's no one here, Kit," he told her, then added, "we're completely alone." He hoped that penetrated her rage enough for her to hustle right back out of here before his control broke and he did something that he'd have a hard time regretting later on.

"You're lying," she hissed. "I can smell her."

"Not up here, you can't. Joanna never made it past the front door."

Kit stopped in the middle of the floor and glared at him. "I can smell her on _you."_ He sniffed himself and conceded that she had a point. Unlike most werewolves, Joanna wore perfume, and the brand she favored lingered for hours after even the briefest contact.

"Would it make you feel better if I took a shower?" he asked.

"This isn't funny," she said.

"No, but it is flattering." He pushed off the frame and crossed the floor, stopping right in front of her. He leaned forward, and she flinched away from him, a hard expression on her face.

"You _reek _of her," she growled. Gerik caught the back of her head with one hand and pulled her toward him.

"But do I taste like her?" he asked before crushing her lips beneath his own. He felt her melt under him, but then her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back.

"I'm serious," she declared. "It's disgusting." She covered her nose with a hand. "What is it, anyway?"

"I don't know. Some kind of flower."

"Well wash it off. I can't stand it."

Chuckling, Gerik resigned himself to a second shower. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing, though. He didn't want Joanna's scent rubbing off onto his sheets, where he'd have to spend the rest of the week rolling around in it. To his delight, Kit followed him into the bathroom. To his disappointment, she chose to perch on the vanity counter rather than join him in the shower.

"I don't see what you're all fired up about," he said over the sound of the water. "Joanna's old news. Anyone on the island could have told you that."

"That's not what I heard," she shot back.

"Oh, and what exactly did you hear?"

"That she was your first love, and you left your old Pack after she decided your brother was a better route to power and glory. And, now that your brother is dead, she's decided you'll do, after all." Gerik winced. She really knew how to stick the knife in, didn't she?

"That's not the whole story," he replied.

"Then what is it?"

"Well, for one thing, she threw me over _after _I'd already made up my mind to leave," he explained. "Also, I'd gotten the idea long before that that it wasn't my charm she was interested in. I just didn't get the chance to formally break things off with her, what with a bunch of other things going on in my life at the time."

There was silence from the other side of the shower door. Gerik could practically hear the gears churning in Kit's head.

"So . . . you _weren't _brokenhearted over her leaving you?" she asked.

"'Brokenhearted' wouldn't be the word I'd use, no," he answered. "Pissed off at the way she ended things, yes. If anyone truly hurt me in the matter, it was Hank. Pretty crappy thing to do, marrying your brother's fiancée."

"Don't you mean ex?"

"Nope, I mean 'fiancée.' I didn't know we were over until the two of them swanned on up to me, arm in arm, with her wearing his ring on her finger."

More silence, then, "so what was she doing here tonight? If it's supposed to be over between you two, why did she think she could just waltz back into your life and snap you up?" Gerik sighed.

"Because she's got an inflated sense of entitlement, that's why. Joanna Dreyer _née _Miller has always thought that the world owed her whatever she wanted since the day she was born. I didn't see it until later, because she used to be better at hiding it." He turned the water off, pushed the door open and reached for a towel. "Look, it's a long, complicated story, and I really don't feel like talking about it anymore tonight, okay? Alrik's tossing her out tomorrow. By the time we get up in the morning, she'll be gone."

"What do you mean, by the time we get up?" she demanded. He dropped the towel and stepped up to the vanity, pulled her legs apart and wrapped them around his hips.

"You didn't think I'd let you come all this way and not make it worth your while, did you?" he murmured. His hands slid along the backs of her thighs to cup her buttocks, and he pulled her tight against his groin.

"Well, maybe I don't need you to do that," she replied, her voice catching as he ground his hips against the apex of her thighs.

"No, Ma'am," he drawled. "I am a Texan _and _a werewolf. Hospitality is important to both of those people. I aim to please."

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, where he dropped her on the bed.

"Maybe I don't want to be pleased," Kit panted as she pulled her shirt off over her head. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and yanked them off over her hips.

"Well, sometimes you just have to put up with people doing nice things for you," he said, pulling her legs apart and sliding between them. He dipped his head and took a good, long taste of her, growling in pleasure when he discovered she was already wet. Kit leaned forward, hooked him underneath his arms and flipped him onto his back.

"This isn't about being nice," she growled as she straddled him and slid down his hard length. He groaned and arched beneath her as her wet sheath enveloped him. Steadily, she rose and fell. He wanted to tell her to go slower, but instead, gripped her hips and urged her to move faster, harder. She complied, swiveling her hips every time she descended, her glowing eyes locked on him. The delicious, glorious pressure built inside of him, but he forced himself to hold back. Her breath hitched, and her head fell back as she bit her lip and cried out hoarsely. The spasms of her inner muscles as she climaxed pushed him over the edge, and he groaned as he ejaculated deep inside of her core.

Kit collapsed on his chest, panting heavily. Gerik wasn't in any better shape, but managed to find enough strength to drag the covers down underneath himself and tuck them both into bed.


	20. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A calloused hand slid down her side, pausing to massage her stomach briefly, then continued lower. Kit stretched languidly, and the hand slipped between her legs. A finger pushed between the folds of her labia, found her clitoris, and gently manipulated it in slow circles. She gasped as a bolt of pleasure shot through her body, then moaned when the same finger slipped inside her. Involuntarily, she spread her legs to give him better access, then began to rock her pelvis against his hand.

Teeth gently bit her earlobe, then trailed nipping kisses down her jaw to her chin, when he moved higher and took her mouth. His tongue slid between her lips and slowly stroked her own. Not even fully awake, the double assault ruined what little thoughts she had, leaving Kit with no other recourse except to writhe beneath him as the pleasure pushed her higher and higher, until—

He stopped, and she cried out in dismay. He laughed softly, pulled her legs apart farther and settled himself between them. She felt the large, blunt head of his penis press against her, then fingers parted her swollen, slick labia and he pushed his erection inside of her. She groaned at the feel of his hard, heavy length stretch and fill her, and she reached around to grasp his buttocks and pull him into herself faster. He laughed again, but ended it on a gasp when she tilted her pelvis and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into her core.

He withdrew, then thrust again, his moan of pleasure in concert with her own. Again and again, in and out, a slow, steady rhythm that sent wave after wave of pleasure rippling through them both. Kit's breath began to hitch, and he angled his hips and altered his strokes, making them shorter and faster. Her head thrashed against the pillow and her nails dug into his buttocks as she tried to pull him closer. Her pelvis ground against his, and finally, she climaxed; heavy, violent waves of extreme pleasure crashing over her one after the other.

He changed his rhythm again, this time to longer strokes that came faster and faster. He panted heavily, his muscles tensing and jaw clenching as he approached his own climax. Kit urged him on, feeling herself beginning to peak again. Her inner muscles gripped him in velvet steel, and she cried out when he thrust one last time, crushing her beneath him, as his penis shuddered inside her with his ejaculation.

Spent, he collapsed on top of her, his arms burrowing beneath her body to clasp him to her. His breath rasped in her ear, and Kit trembled with aftershock.

"Christ, I'll never get enough of you," he murmured.

* * *

Kit jolted out of a sound sleep and sat upright in bed. She was alone, the room wasn't one she was familiar with.

"Oh, God, tell me I didn't . . . "she trailed off as the previous night's events unfolded in her memory.

This was a complete _disaster. _What had she been thinking?

Well, actually, she hadn't been thinking. She'd operated wholly on instinct, and now she was totally screwed. She shifted on the bed, and winced at her muscles protesting. Figuratively and literally, it appeared.

Ignoring her soreness, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She paused for a moment while she regained her balance, then wrapped the sheet around herself.

First things first, she needed to get cleaned up. Bad enough she'd stayed out all night without telling anyone where she was going—not that they couldn't guess. Changer Island had a good-sized pack, but it was still a small, close-knit community, and she didn't need to add fuel to the fire by returning home reeking of sex and the Pack Beta.

She grabbed up her clothes and dashed into the bathroom and hastily scrubbed herself clean, then brushed her wet hair with Gerik's brush and pulled it back with a hair band. She pulled her clothes on, then returned to the bedroom to retrieve her shoes.

Wasn't only yesterday—correction, _last night—_when she'd told herself she needed to have a plan before confronting Gerik? But no, she had to just go and completely forget herself at the first mention of some ex-girlfriend sniffing around, and she lost her mind completely.

Seriously, what was wrong with her? How could she have thought that Gerik—whom everyone praised for his sensibleness and clear-head—would have gone back to someone who had humiliated him years ago?

"My own stupid insecurities," she muttered to herself as she tied the laces of her sneakers. She was so used to having anything good that came her way taken away that she'd come to believe that, in some way, it was deserved. Well, not actually _deserved, _more just her lot in life. So, as soon as she accepted the idea of a relationship with Gerik actually having some merit, along came one tiny little bump in the road, and she freaked.

Only this time, she didn't back off and surrender what she wanted, she fought for it when she shouldn't have needed to. Honestly, it was ridiculous.

And now she was going to have to go downstairs and face Gerik. After spending the night in his bed and—oh, God, had it been four times? She groaned with humiliation. This wasn't a quick roll in the grass with some male who was only interested in getting off; this was a male who was seriously interested in her on a long-term basis. You just didn't hop right into bed under those circumstances. And now he was going to make all these assumptions, and Kit wasn't sure how she was going to deal with it.

How did you explain yourself in a situation like this? Thanks for giving me more orgasms in one night then I've had in my entire life, but I think we need to take a step back and reevaluate the whole thing. That's okay, right?

Kit forced herself to stop and think. This might not be as bad as she thought—after all, she made assumptions the night before, and look what happened. Maybe it really was very simple, and all she needed to do was walk downstairs and lay her cards out on the table. She had to be prepared for his disappointment, of course, but she wasn't rejecting him outright. She just wanted to back up a bit. Was that so wrong?

If worse came to worse, she'd just take the advice her cousin gave her years ago and kick Gerik in the balls as hard as she could, and then run.

Gerik was leaning against the kitchen island, reading the paper and sipping coffee. He looked up as Kit came down the stairs and smiled warmly. Kit returned the smile, though with a bit more restraint, and sat on a stool opposite him. He noticed her reticence and turned to the counter.

"Coffee?" he asked. She replied in the affirmative and tried to quell her rising anxiety as she watched the muscles in his shoulders and back tense up.

"You'll be glad to know that Joanna was escorted off the island three hours ago," he said as he slid a mug in front of her. Kit squeezed her eyes shut and hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt.

"I'm really sorry about that," she replied. "I didn't break anything, did I? I'm not normally so out of control."

"No, everything's fine," he confirmed. She was glad to see the tension ease out of him, but worried that he assumed her hesitance stemmed solely from that, rather than her overall behavior of the night before.

"Elise called," he announced while pulling open the refrigerator and pulling a carton of eggs out. Kit's face flamed again.

"She did?" she said, her voice coming out in a squeak that she immediately hated herself for. He shot her an amused look.

"Yep. So did a few other people, including Alrik. I gather you didn't tell anyone where you were going?" She shook her head, and he chuckled. "They just wanted to make sure you were okay, and I said that as far as I knew, you were. And you are, aren't you?"

Kit bit her lip. "About that . . ."

He tensed again, but so slightly she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't been looking for it.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," she rushed out. "I knew exactly what I was doing. It's just that now, it's, um . . ." She took a deep breath. Time to get this over with. "I wasn't thinking. I let my insecurities take over and I . . . took advantage of you."

Gerik barked out a laugh and shook his head.

"Baby, if that's what you're worried about, let me assure you I was more than happy to be used by you," he said, grinning widely.

"I don't mean like that," she protested. "I've been thinking about this—about us—a lot recently, and I wanted to try, but not like this. Slower. It—God, we don't even know each other, and just to hop right into bed like that just because I got all worked up about something that wasn't even close to being true. I—I'm making a mess of this, aren't I?"

"Just a little one," Gerik said, holding his thumb and index finger together a space. "But I do take your meaning, and, quite frankly, we'd have been past this point weeks ago if I hadn't screwed it up first. So, consider us even in the 'who gets to fuck us up faster' race."

Kit smiled as she took a swallow of coffee, and he turned away from her to place a skillet on the stove.

"So, we can just back up and start over, then?" she asked as he pulled out a bowl and started cracking eggs into it.

"I think that the worst of what everyone imagined has happened, and since we're both still standing, they'll give us some space now to figure it out. That'll be a big help."

"You don't want me to move in with you right away, or anything, do you?"

He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment, then tossed the eggshell he was holding into the compost.

"No. No, I think you're right. That, of course, would be ideal, but it does still feel like early days."

"Besides, we hardly know each other," Kit repeated a bit ruefully. "I mean, physically we do, but the rest of it . . ."

"Well, I'd say you don't know me," he replied, "but I think I know you pretty well. Not all the little details of the ins and outs of you—not yet, anyway—but I am acquainted with a great deal of your history."

Kit's brow wrinkled in confusion. Part of her was offended he would make such a claim, but the majority of her was simply curious.

"What do you know, or think you know?" she challenged. He chuckled at her tone.

"Well, I know that back in Wolf Lake, your granddaddy tried to overthrow the leader at the time, and had damn near convinced most of the Pack to support him. And then, his daughter—whatshisname's mother. Slick piece of work."

"Tyler Creed?" she suggested.

"Yeah, that one. Anyway, she ratted her father out, and the Pack on his side abandoned him, and he was executed. And then, your father and his brothers, and all their children, you included, have been paying for it ever since. Relegated to the bottom of the heap, no matter what your potential is. Stepped on, pushed around, neglected. Abused."

Kit stilled as he held her gaze. "I know about what happened to you two years ago with that one male, and the fact that nobody did anything about it," he admitted soberly.

"He didn't actually rape me," she stated. "He just tried. Tyler stopped him and, in fact, almost killed him for it."

"Almost killed him? Well, good for him. What did Willard Cates do?" Kate dropped her gaze. "That's right. Some leader he turned out to be. Other Packs, it doesn't matter who the victim is, you just don't let something like that slide."

"Well, it happened," she said. "It's done, and—" she waved her hand in the direction of the staircase—"I'm fine. It's not going to happen again, and I refuse to dwell on it."

"Good for you. Anyway. The point is, I understand where you're coming from, and why you've reacted the way you have all along. Even last night. By the way, speaking of last night, I accept."

"Accept what?"

"Your proposal. You said I was yours, and I'm telling you I accept."

"But what about—"

"Oh, we can go as slow as you like. You're the female, you call the shots. But just so you know, a claim works both ways. If I'm yours, then you are mine. Best you remember that."

Kit rolled her eyes. "You're impossible," she declared, though without any heat. He chuckled.

"You might as well know that right up front, because I have no plans to change in any way."

* * *

Elise and Sarah were two of the first to show up for the division of the hunter's spoils. Elise was still wound up from Kit running off the night before, but more from indignation than anything else.

"I mean, what was she thinking?" the older female demanded for the umpteenth time. "We spent all that time and energy keeping Gerik away from her, and then she just throws herself in his arms."

Sarah merely shrugged in response, but privately was glad _something _had finally shaken loose between those two. The Kit and Gerik Show had been a pain in the ass to live with. If this had been Wolf Lake, Vivian Cates would have hauled the two of them up before her and forced them to have it out right then and there, nevermind that Gerik was an Alpha in his own right.

Alrik and Brianna had already arrived and were helping to organize the division of meat.

"Look who's here!" Brianna exclaimed cheerfully, put down a side of elk and wandered over. "It's the Mighty Rabbit Hunter. Are you really only being allowed to keep three and a half of them? That's kind of weird."

"Not really," Sarah said. "I mean, everything gets split up."

"Yeah, but half a rabbit? That's like, what, a snack?"

Sarah shrugged again. "If I really want more, there's plenty on the island. Isn't that the only thing we're allowed to hunt without any kind of restrictions?"

"Pretty much, but only because they breed like, you know. Rabbits. Anyway, I heard you also are entitled to quite a big share of the bear meat, and that you actually killed one all by yourself. Pretty impressive."

Sarah blushed. "That's not true," she refuted. "I just got its jugular and everyone else finished it off. Besides, the only reason I managed to hold on is because my teeth got stuck in its skin."

Brianna laughed at her embarrassment. "Oh, Sarah, that's hardly the worst thing that's ever happened on a hunt," she told her. "One time, Presley and I went with Luke and the guys, and Luke was leading us all after this huge elk. Well, we're almost on it, and then all the sudden Luke trips and falls straight into a pit trap, because we'd wound up in the Run. We just kept going and took it down. Didn't even notice Luke wasn't with us until we hear this, 'guys? Hello. Can somebody help me out here'?"

"That would never happen to Lucas Cates," Sarah protested, giggling in spite of her disbelief.

"Yes, it did, and it wasn't the first time with him, and I doubt it'll be the last. Stuff like that happens to everybody. Just be thankful the worst anyone can say of you is that you were so eager they had to pry your jaws loose for you. Next time, though, just flip. Your teeth receding will pull right out of the skin."

Sarah hadn't thought of that, and blushed again at the memory of her panic at getting caught by her own prey.

"Were you sorry to not go?" she asked, changing the subject. Brianna paused in thought before answering.

"Yeah, a little, I guess," she admitted. "Still, I ended up having a bunch of stuff to do, so it's probably a good thing that I stayed behind. Of course, I'm going to have to call my publisher and tell him the edits will be late, because I have to butcher a ton of meat." Brianna's gaze settled on Alrik, who was working through a checklist with another female. "Why does he have to be so good?"

"Oh, poor you," Sarah said. "Living with someone who's such a good provider." Brianna swatted her playfully on the arm.

"You'll catch up," she promised her. "So, anyway, enjoy yourself. I have to go finish piling up the meat. See you later."

Sarah watched her retreating back, and suddenly realized this was the first time Brianna had ever willingly spoken to her, and with more than just a degree of civility. She had teased her, but really, that's all it had been. There wasn't any nastiness in it. It was almost like they were . . . friends.

Smiling, she joined Elise and helped to set up a table for hot beverage. _Imagine that, _she thought. _Bratty Brianna and Sarah the Pathetic Toad just might be friends._

* * *

Edith leaned against the wall while her parents put their names down for different cuts of meat too small to be evenly divided amongst the Pack. She half-listened while her mother exclaimed over various birds someone had caught, but the majority of her attention was on Sarah Hollander.

_Stupid, pathetic, weak bitch. Everyone thinks she's such a hero. All she did was catch a bunch of stupid rabbits. Even I can do that. If I'd been on that bear hunt, I would have actually killed it by myself, not just held it down and let everyone else do the work._

"Edie, stop staring at her," her father hissed, causing her to jump. "You're in enough trouble as it is. Don't go asking for any more."

Burning with sullen resentment, she turned her back on the room and pretended to pay attention to what her parents were saying.

As far as she was concerned, the hunting trip had been one huge disappointment. She, Felix and Mark were supposed to show everyone how great they were, returning home triumphant with the fattest, richest kills.

Okay, so maybe that had been a fantasy, but it should have gone better than it did. They should have had more chances to show off their skills. Instead, they'd been relegated to the tails of the hunting packs, ordered to just observe and help out where they could. Mark did wind up with two elk he could claim a share in, but she and Felix were completely out of luck. Now, they had to rely on the generosity of the more successful.

Her mother tried to tell her that that was normal for a first hunt, especially for someone who'd only completed their Change two months ago.

"You haven't gotten used to your new abilities," she said. "Next time, you'll do better. You'll see."

"But next time for me won't be for another whole year or more!" Edith had protested. Her mother promised that her father would take them hunting some time later in the year, just the three of them, but she wasn't comforted.

As far as Edith was concerned, it had been one big plot on the part of Sarah Hollander. After all, wasn't she the one whom everybody said was such a screw-up? That she hadn't even been on the island more than a few days before she pissed everyone off?

And now, barely a month later, she was everyone's darling, while Edith had to spend every day with the Keeper, "brushing up" on things she already knew. Before the hunt, that's what _Sarah _had to do, and now she'd twisted it around and made everyone think that Edith was the one who didn't know how to behave.

Her father hadn't been nearly as kind as her mother when the Beta informed her parents about her "behavior" on the trip. What behavior? She'd acted just fine. Nevertheless, he claimed that, while she hadn't been outright disobedient, she hadn't paid attention to anyone, and had actually lost them a few kills because of it. Which was totally untrue! She didn't dare accuse the Beta of lying, even to herself, but everything was so confusing, it would be easy for him to misinterpret the facts.

And then he told them about Sarah, and that whole fight they'd had over her stupid luggage. Edith tried to explain that they were just looking, but her parents didn't want to listen. They had been appalled, and her father had been particularly angry with her. So angry that she'd been subject to an hour-long lecture about how she was supposed to treat others weaker than herself, that strength didn't mean she could do whatever she wanted, blah blah blah, and that she was, from now on, to stay as far away from Sarah Hollander as she could.

The whole thing was so unfair. Why should she go out of her way to be respectful to someone as useless as her? And who cared if Edith looked at her things? Big deal! It wasn't like she ruined them or anything.

Her father didn't care, though, and now she was grounded. Two whole weeks without television, or the Internet, or trips off the island. She was to stay at home and focus on her studies, and she absolutely wasn't allowed near Felix or Mark without supervision.

_That _was the worst part about the whole thing. She wasn't even allowed to see her friends! What gives?

Her father claimed they'd been a bad influence, and said she needed to get her head back on straight before they let her run around by herself again. He said she hadn't been like this before she flipped, and they'd assumed she wouldn't change so much that they had to hold her back until she got her feet under her. He sounded disappointed, as if she'd failed them somehow. Well, of course she'd changed! It was a big, life-altering thing, acquiring a second nature. No one stayed the same after that.

Didn't matter. She was barred from seeing her friends, and instead had to spend her time undergoing "refinement" by the Keeper, and that was that. End of discussion.

None of this would have happened to her if it hadn't been for Sarah. Somehow, that mealy-mouthed little female had done or said something to make Gerik turn against her. Gerik, who'd been _her_ Pack's Beta long before they'd even heard of Sarah Hollander, who was just a reject from Wolf Lake, anyway.

Well, she'd show her. First opportunity she got, Edith would let that little bitch know that she couldn't just waltz into another Pack and make it jump to her tune with a snap of her fingers. She'd make her so sorry, she'd come crawling to Edith and beg her forgiveness for ever presuming to mess with her.

And then, maybe, she'd show a little mercy and forgive her. Maybe.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Sarah made her way down the rocky path to the shore. Kit had finally slunk home, and Elise kicked her out of the apartment so the two of them could have a long talk about how it wasn't such a nice thing to frighten the older female to death by disappearing in the middle of the night.

Sarah should have been helping Elise butcher and package the meat they'd gotten, but was more than happy to duck the storm brewing between the two other females. So, instead, she decided to work on strengthening her senses.

Her confidence had been bolstered by her success, small though it may have been compared to some of the other hunters. Even so, she felt that she did pretty good for someone who'd never even—how had the Keeper put it? Caught a frog for her dinner. Well, she'd done way more than that. So much better than anyone's expectations, including her own, that she felt it might be prudent to take advantage of her recent good luck and see what else she might succeed at.

She picked her way across the rock-strewn shore, until she came to a wide swath of beach that was mostly empty. She sat herself down on the sand and crossed her legs, her back resting against a boulder, and faced the sun. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the feel of it warming her face, and sighed happily as the breeze wafted the scents of the sea to her nose. After the constant activity of the past week, it was nice to be able to just sit and relax, and not worry about what she should be doing instead.

Well, she _was_ working on something, wasn't she? But that wasn't exactly work. Not really. It was just . . . exploring. Playing around with her senses. And, it was nice to try it without the Keeper hovering over her, expecting her to fail at every step. By herself, if she failed, she failed, and there was nothing she could do about it except try again.

Except this time, she had a plan to help herself _not _fail. The idea had been suggested to her by Laura, who claimed to use the same technique with success, and Sarah though it sounded reasonable enough to try it without asking the Keeper first. He'd probably call it a crutch, but what was wrong with a little crutch to get her over the hump? Once she figured out how to listen to her skin and tongue this way, then she'd be able to work on it without any help at all. The problem with the Keeper, Sarah decided, was that he wanted everything done yesterday.

Sarah slathered some strongly-scented chap stick on the skin under her nose. If she couldn't detect anything with her nose but mint, then she'd be forced to rely on her other senses. In a similar vein, she tied a dark scarf around her eyes and snapped a pair of muffs she borrowed from Elise over her ears.

She leaned back against the boulder, rested her hands on her knees and relaxed. If anyone wandered by, they'd think she looked ridiculous, but she didn't care. Let them laugh; this wasn't about them.

She let her mouth drop open and sucked in a huge gasp of air, rolling it on her tongue before pulling it down into her lungs. She coughed and sputtered at first, but adjusted the amount of air she inhaled, and soon had a good rhythm going.

_Let's see . . . salt. I definitely taste salt, but I'd knew it would be there, so that shouldn't count. I could be just making it up out of my own head. Hm . . . water. Definitely taste that, too, which is no surprise. But what does it taste like? Not nothing . . . cold, sharp. Invigorating. That's water. Not sweet or bitter or anything else. It just is . . ._

_Fish. Definitely taste fish. And . . . some kind of plant? Rot. Lots and lots of rot._

Something brushed against her leg, and she jumped in surprise. Lifting a corner of the scarf, she spied a crab scuttling away fast in the opposite direction. Shaking her head ruefully, she lowered the scarf and went back to concentrating.

The more time passed, the more she relaxed and really started to get into the whole exercise. Of course, there was no way to judge how accurate she was, but still she found herself enjoying drawing parallels between everyday things and the tastes and sensations she experienced. The sun felt like dried syrup on her skin. The taste of the sand around her was like pepper without the bite. On and on she went, inventing new descriptions for the things she'd never paid attention before.

Suddenly, her consciousness was plunged into a, a . . . she didn't know for certain. There was darkness, and the sensation of floating. She couldn't feel so much as the breeze against her skin; couldn't, in fact, even feel her body. Panic welled in her throat, but she forced herself to call down.

_I've just fallen asleep. That's all. I just need to open my eyes and I'll wake up. So . . . open. Open your eyes, Sarah. Open your eyes!_

Her eyes opened, but she was no longer on the beach of Changer Island. Instead, she was in a room crammed with furniture. Bunkbeds were pushed up against a wall, and two desks stood side-by-side across from them. A tatty, stained armchair sat next to a small refrigerator. The sound of traffic floated in from two windows covered with cheap curtains.

A young male was seated at one of the desks, and scribbled in a notebook as he paged through a textbook.

"Um, excuse me?" Sarah ventured. The male whipped around in his chair. "I'm really sorry to bother you, but I don't know how I got here."

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Sarah. Look, I was just sitting on a beach, and I closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was here. Where is here?"

"Um, South Carolina," he told her, then crossed the room and stood in front of her. She leaned away from him when he reached up to touch her face. "Woah. I must have fallen asleep and not realized it."

"What's going on?" she demanded, panic rising in her.

"I think—but don't quote me on it, mind—I think you went for a Walk," he replied. "Most of the time it happens on purpose, but sometimes by accident. Where are you from, anyway?"

Sarah ignored the question. "How do I get back?" she asked. "I need to get back!"

"Calm down. It's easy. You just retrace your steps."

"But I don't know how I even got here in the first place," she protested. "I've never done this before."

"What, never?"

"No!"

"Oh. Well, um, give me a minute." He paced in front of her, deep in thought. Finally, he stopped. "Okay, so, close your eyes again—close 'em." She obliged. "Now, you're going to take a step back, and when you do, let yourself fall, and see yourself, in your head, falling out of the room and into blackness. And then, you just sort of let the current take you, and next think you know, just pop. Open your eyes for real and you're back."

Sarah nodded, and did as he suggested. She felt herself move backwards, and then she was falling, and rushing through the nothingness, until she suddenly felt herself rising up and up . . . and then she was crammed into a small space. She wiggled around and pushed herself into the nooks and crannies, making herself comfortable. The next thing she knew, there was a weird feeling like wax was cooling on her skin, and—

She ripped the scarf off her head, pulling the ear muffs with it. She was awake. For real, this time. She pinched herself to be sure, and let out a sigh of relief when the sharp pain registered immediately.

What a strange dream. She wondered if perhaps she'd gotten too much sun. She'd heard about that sort of thing happening, but never experienced it. Still, there was a first time for everything.

Something sharp hit the back of her head, and she plunged back into darkness.


	21. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

The two females worked steadily, butchering the slabs of meat into serving portions, then wrapped them in plastic and stored them in the huge walk-in freezer of the café. Neither spoke to the other; all they wanted to say had been said, and now they kept their heads down and worked, swallowing their own burning resentment and, at the same time, not wanting to restart their argument by even so much as posing an innocent question about their task.

Kit hadn't quite known what she would do or say when she came back, only that she was shamefully aware that she'd stepped over the line by running off the night before. And even though it was true, saying she'd been in the grip of base instinct wasn't a good enough excuse. Even so, she couldn't help but feel a little angry that Elise hadn't even wanted to hear her explanation, instead subjecting her to a tirade about foolishness and wasting everyone's time. It was the dig about her not knowing any better due to coming from a Pack that didn't even have the sense to stand on its own two feet that pushed her over the edge.

Her own rant had been nasty and cruel, and Kit accused Elise of a lot of things that were patently untrue, using language she never would have let cross her lips before, especially to an elder. Even worse, she'd acted like the child Elise accused her of being, which, though she currently felt justified in her juvenile behavior, she would regret later.

Eventually, someone had to say something, though, and it was Elise who broke the silence.

"Where's Sarah?" she asked.

Kit looked up from the loin she was working on, and realized that it had gotten dark. Thinking back she realized she hadn't heard anyone go up to the apartment, and Sarah hadn't returned before they went down to the café.

"Was she supposed to have a lesson with the Keeper?" she asked. Elise shook her head.

"Not today. Too much for him to do, what with the Alpha and Beta being gone for eight whole days. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

This time it was Kit's turn to shake her head. To limit the Pack's exposure to Sarah, she hadn't been allowed outside on her own, and Kit, because of her own problems with Gerik, hadn't been considered an adequate chaperone. So, Sarah had been reduced to being shepherded around by Elise or Niel, neither of whom had much time for it.

"Something must have happened," Kit mused. "She doesn't know the island all that well."

"Damn that girl," Elise muttered. "If it's not one thing, it's another." She threw down her cleaver, wiped her hands off with a dishtowel and picked up the phone. Her offhand comment pricked Kit's temper anew; yes, Sarah had been a trial, but she'd improved considerably.

"I'll find her," she snarled at Elise and began to strip her clothing off. "Scent," she explained harshly to Elise's questioning look. The older female had the grace to blush, embarrassed that she hadn't thought of that herself.

"Well, she probably just holed up somewhere and lost track of time," Elise commented in a tight voice and hung up the phone. "Could happen to anyone. I'll, uh—I'll just finish up here, then get started on something for us to eat when you bring her back."

Kit nodded sharply and flipped. Elise obligingly held the front door of the café open for her, and she slipped out into the night.

Sarah's scent was a few hours old, but still easily to detect. Kit followed it down the street and around a bend, until it left the pavement to descend stairs set into the hillside. They were incredibly steep, and Kit took extra care making her way down them. There were no streetlamps on Changer Island; the only illumination to break through the darkness of night came from the windows of people's houses. Though the moon provided adequate light, the individual risers cast shadows that made it difficult to see where one began and the other ended.

Eventually, she reached the bottom and put her nose to the ground. Kit circled around a few times, then picked up the scent again and followed it through the rocks and boulders protruding out of the sand.

When she reached the beach, a new obstacle appeared—the tide was coming in. The water lapped at her paws and sucked the gravel out from underneath them. In another hour, it would reach all the way up to the cliffs. She could cross the stretch of land to reach the stairs on the opposite side without worrying about being caught, but it meant that the scent trail had been washed away.

*Sarah!* she projected into the darkness, but there was no response. Frustrated, she decided to head down the beach anyway. She opened up her senses completely and swept her power back and forth along the strip, searching for any clue the younger female might have left behind.

So intent was she in focusing on the whole beach that she didn't see the earmuffs until she tripped on them. For all she knew, they could have been left here by anyone, but Kit rescued them from the waves anyway. She set them on top of a rock and examined them closely.

Thank god for porous plastic, because in spite of them being drenched by salt water, the earmuffs still had a scent. It was Elise's scent, but Kit deduced that if the older female lost them even a few days ago, they would have been washed out to sea by now. So, Sarah must have borrowed them, which meant she definitely came this way.

Encouraged, Kit pressed on. She clambered over rocks, squeezed between boulders, constantly searching for any other clue. And then, up ahead, she spotted something pale laying on the ground. She broke into a run.

*Sarah!*

* * *

The howl swept across the island, and Elise dropped her cleaver in shock at the despair in the sound.

_Sarah. She's found Sarah._

Elise dashed out of the café and headed toward the source of Kit's mournful cry. Other Pack members who lived in the town joined her, and they convened on the stairs heading down to the beach.

"Stay here," ordered Caius, and Elise nodded. He took two other werewolves with him, and they descended the cliff.

Elise bit her knuckles as she chastened herself. If she hadn't been so preoccupied with her own anger at Kit, she would have realized earlier that Sarah was in trouble. Who knows what condition the poor thing was in, having been stranded out in the cold for so long?

After what seemed an eternity, they returned. Caius led, carrying Sarah in his arms. The other two were helping Kit, still in her wolf skin, up the stairs. Elise bit back a sob and lead them to the apartment. Her hands were shaking so badly it took several tries for her to get the key in the lock. Caius pushed past her when she got the door open and carried the younger female up the stairs into the apartment. He located Sarah's room by scent and laid her on the bed.

"Michael's coming," he told Elise brusquely as he pulled the comforter over Sarah.

"What happened? Where was she?" she demanded.

He shook his head. "Found Kit dragging her over the beach by her collar. She was completely drenched and too heavy to move that way."

Kit appeared in the doorway in her human skin, a bathrobe wrapped around her.

"I found her laying next to a boulder, unconscious," she stated. "There's blood, but it's old. Clotted. I think she hit her head."

"She's breathing, and that's the important thing," Caius said. "Michael will be able to tell us more."

Elise nodded and backed out of the room. The other two werewolves hovered in the hallway, and she retreated to the kitchen.

_When in doubt, feed everyone._

"George, can you go down to the café and grab some steaks?" she asked. "The door's still open."

The male nodded sharply and disappeared. Elise put on a pot of coffee and began pulling out cookware. Kit leaned against the door, her hands tucked under her armpits, but that didn't prevent her from shivering.

"For God's sake, go hop in the shower and get yourself warmed up," she ordered her. Kit didn't argue, and slipped into the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of running water emerged from behind the closed door.

George returned with Michael right behind him. The Pack's physician immediately entered Sarah's room, and George handed Elise a pile of elk. She thanked him and got to work seasoning them while the broiler heated up.

By the time Michael finished examining Sarah and doing what he could for her, everyone had assembled in the kitchen. Kit and the other three werewolves were seated at the table, already cutting into their steaks. Elise was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee, too upset to eat.

"How is she?" she asked as she handed Michael a plate. He thanked her, then answered her question.

"She's stable. Took quite a nasty blow to the skull. It cracked bone, but it'll heal by itself. She'll need to be looked after until that happens, though. I wouldn't be surprised if she has vision problems for a few days."

Elise nodded dully. The others had stopped eating and gave Michael their undivided attention.

"Any idea how it happened?" Kit wondered. "I just found her. I didn't see anything."

"Hard to say," he replied, pausing long enough to chew and swallow a bite of food. "How exactly did you find her?"

Kit described the scene, adding ruefully that she didn't take much time to examine it closely, because of the state she found Sarah in and the fact that the tide was coming in.

"There are dozens of explanations for her condition," he stated. "I won't know for certain until she wakes up and tells me what she remembers. Which probably won't be much. Head trauma victims tend to have amnesia focused right around the time of their injury."

"How long before she wakes up, do you think?" Elise asked quietly. Michael shrugged.

"Could be in an hour, could be tomorrow. Hell, it could be never. That's the problem with head wounds." To their dismayed expressions, he added, "I'm optimistic about her chances. She's young and healthy, and the wound wasn't that bad. Just let her sleep as long as she wants. If she doesn't wake by tomorrow afternoon, though, come get me again."

He took another bite of steak, then laid the plate on the counter.

"Thanks for the food, Elise. I better get going, though. The Alpha will need to be told what happened."

With that, he turned and left. Elise picked his plate up and looked at the food. She still couldn't bring herself to eat. Not wanting to waste anything, she dropped it in the middle of the table for the others to divide amongst themselves.

Not long after, the males thanked Elise for her hospitality. She thanked them in turn for their help and walked them out. Kit had already started on the dishes, so Elise left her to it. She took a chair from the table and carried it into Sarah's room, where she sat by her bedside the rest of the night.

* * *

"Sarah Hollander was attacked," Michael stated baldly to Alrik.

"Are you certain?" his Alpha pressed. "She could have slipped and cracked her head on a rock."

Michael shook his head stubbornly. "I didn't say anything, but there were traces of hatred lingering around the wound."

"Psychic residue transfer?" the younger male asked, brow wrinkling.

"It can happen. Not often, but it does. Whomever attacked Sarah hated her beyond reason."

"Are you certain about _that?" _Brianna asked. "I don't know anyone who she might have pissed off enough to attack her like that, but there's a first time for everything."

"No, whomever it was definitely was out of control. Besides, if they wanted to hurt her, why didn't they challenge her directly? That's the normal thing to do. Not sneak up on her and knock her out."

"But why just hit her and leave?" Alrik wondered. "There wasn't any other marks on her body, were there?" Michael confirmed that this was the case. "So what was the point? Whomever it was couldn't have seriously thought that she'd be unconscious for so long that they could leave her for the tide. Or that she wouldn't be found."

"Who knows what they were thinking? I'm telling you, they weren't in their right mind."

Michael rubbed his face with his hands. Who would have thought something like this could happen? Yes, the female wasn't the most popular member of the Pack, but general opinion of her had softened considerably. Enough that this kind of violence wouldn't be—

"Wait, didn't she have a disagreement with someone on the hunting trip?" he asked. "Alec told me something about a fight."

"Gerik mentioned it to me," Alrik confirmed. "Mark, Felix and Edith were picking on her, and she fought back. It happened right at the beginning of the trip. Those three are young and new to their wolf skins, but they shared a room with her for a week after that fight, and nothing else happened."

"But it was bad enough that Gerik told their parents," Michael pointed out.

"Only because their behavior was causing trouble overall," he clarified. "The fight with Sarah was just one in a long string of problems."

"But if one of them is crazy, it wouldn't be much of a mental leap for them to pin it all on Sarah, would it?" Brianna ventured. "Especially if this fight happened early on, and the rest of it afterward. They might convince themselves that the only reason they got in trouble is because everyone was on Sarah's side and were looking for excuses to push them down."

"She's got a point," Michael commented. "I'm not saying it's them for certain, but they're the only ones who seemed to have any kind of beef with her. It'd be worth it just to talk to them, see where they were all today."

* * *

The questioning of the Pack's three newest werewolves yielded exactly what Alrik assumed it would—nothing. Either they were unusually good liars—always a possibility if one of them was insane—or there was nothing to find.

There was a brief moment where Alrik thought that Edith might have had something to do with Sarah's attack, either directly or indirectly. The young female, persuaded by her parents, admitted that she blamed Sarah for all her current misfortunes. However, her parents confirmed that she had been with them all day, and that she was being punished for misbehaving on the hunt, so had no opportunity to engage in mischief.

Further questioning of the rest of the Beta's hunters, those who would have had the most interaction with Sarah since her arrival at Changer Island, also revealed nothing of any real importance. The only point of real interest, which Gerik told them himself, was that Sarah had spent a great deal of time with James, a male a few years older than Alrik himself. For lack of any other lead, they went to see him.

"I just felt sorry for her," James explained. "She didn't seem to know much of anything. But she was eager to learn, so I thought it would be okay to hang out with her, answer her questions, show her how things were supposed to be done. That sort of thing."

"And that's all there was between you?" Alrik asked. James nodded.

"Pretty much. I didn't mind. But I'm not interested in her beyond being friends, if that's what you're asking."

Though it was nice to have it confirmed, Alrik didn't need his nose to tell him James wasn't lying. It was well-known that James was seriously involved with another female closer to his own age, and had been for a long time. In fact, the Pack had been waiting for them to announce that they were mates for well over a year now.

"And there's nothing else you can tell us?" he pressed. "You didn't notice anyone arguing with her, or hear any comments that might suggest someone had a grudge against her?"

James shook his head again. "Nothing beyond the fight she had with the three kids on the first day," he replied.

"What did you think about that when you heard about it?" asked Michael. Alrik reigned in his impatience—they'd been over this already, but the physician kept pressing the issue. It was almost like—

Alrik paused at that thought. Did Michael know something he hadn't told his Alpha?

"It was just kid stuff," James was saying. "Normal shit you get with a bunch of newly-flipped trying to make a place for themselves. I don't think anyone thought much about it."

"And what about Sarah's decision to stand up to them, even though they're all stronger than her?"

James rolled his eyes, impatient. "They were being rude," he declared. "I don't know all the details, but everyone seemed pretty sure about that. She had the right, and no one thought less of her for it. Look, I don't know her that well, but she seemed nice enough to me, not at all snobbish like everyone said she was. Maybe she made a little mistake, and someone took it the wrong way. Hell, maybe they thought she was someone else—you can't smell shit other than the Sound when you're down on the beach. If they came up behind her, and she had her face all covered up . . . well, it's not like brunette females of average height and weight are a rare thing in the Pack."

Michael nodded thoughtfully.

"Can I go now?" James begged. "I've got a lot of work to catch up on."

Alrik dismissed him, and they returned to Alpha House.

Sarah didn't wake until the next afternoon. Elise had been nervous about her state, and called Michael in the morning to check on her, but he confirmed his earlier diagnosis—that Sarah's condition was stable and she would wake in her own time. He did add that it appeared to him she was in a regular sleep state, and speculated that her body simply was trying to heal itself and conserve energy at the same time.

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes, then winced at the bright sunlight streaming through the window. She covered her eyes with her arm and groaned in response to the pain stabbing into her head. Inching her arm away, she forced her eyes to adjust to the light, then blinked a few times to get her pupils to dilate a little bit more.

And then made the mistake of trying to sit up.

A new burst of pain swept through her, causing her head to swim, and her vision immediately wavered again. The next thing she knew, the Pack's physician was tucking pillows behind her and forcing her to recline against them.

"You took a nasty blow to the head, so it's going to be a bit before you can move around so fast," he told her. Sarah nodded in understanding, then flinched when pain shot through her again.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"You were attacked," Michael answered.

"I know _that," _she said. "I meant after. How did I get here?"

Michael's attention appeared to sharpen as she said that, though, give her blurred vision, she couldn't be sure entirely sure.

"You know you were attacked?" he stated in a hard voice. She winced again, and he deliberately softened his voice. "How do you know?" he asked.

"I remember feeling something hard hit me," she told him crossly. "I didn't see who it was, though. They were behind me." The older male grumbled in frustration. "What?" she demanded.

"The scene was obliterated by the tide coming in," he explained. "We don't know who did this to you, other than they were angry at you. Though why that might be is a mystery, as well. No one we've talked to seems to have held any kind of grudge to you. At least, not that they're admitting." He gave her a long look, which, even through her foggy vision, clearly told Sarah that he was hoping she had some ideas. She didn't.

"You don't think Mark, Felix or Edith might have done this?" he pressed.

Sarah chewed her lip while she thought about his question. Could any of the three have done this?

"I don't think so," she said slowly. "I mean, they were pretty obnoxious all week. Everyone kept having to take time out to correct them, or tell them to pipe down. That sort of thing. I just ignored them, and they seemed to ignore me."

"And except for some latent resentment on the part of Edith, that's pretty much what they told us," stated Alrik as he entered the room and sat down. "Edith's parents gave her an alibi, so it can't be her. Perhaps Mark and Felix were lying to us, but I doubt it. They're too inexperienced to know how to hide their emotions from other werewolves, and there's no way they would ever be able to hide them from me. So, it has to be someone else, and I highly suggest that we drop them as suspects and _move on." _This last was directed at Michael, who looked away from his Alpha, but couldn't hide his embarrassment completely.

Alrik turned his attention on Sarah, who did her best to not tremble beneath his gaze. Everyone said he was a just, kind leader, but she couldn't help but be afraid of someone so much stronger than herself. Every time she was in his presence, it felt as if she were standing on the edge of an abyss, looking down.

"With your permission, I'd like to try something," he began. "As you said that you do remember being attacked, there might be other things that you noticed that you aren't aware of. I might be able to work through your memories and find those things, if they exist at all. I know this will be difficult for you, having me in your head, so I understand if you don't want to do it. However, you should know that we haven't been able to uncover any information from more traditional lines. In the interest of catching them, you, quite literally, might be our only hope."

Sarah swallowed hard. Could she do it? Let the Alpha so deep into her mind that she could hide nothing from him? Was it even worth it?

"I would also like to add that they might try again," Alrik put in. "Obviously, they were unsuccessful with this attempt, and they might count themselves lucky and change their mind. However, I wouldn't want to risk it. Would you?"

Sarah admitted that sounded likely, and with her not knowing how to use her senses as completely as possible, at least according to Niel, it would be all too easy for her attacker to sneak up on her again.

_So here it is. Are you going to be a coward right now, and risk your life later on? Or are you going to swallow your fear and deal with the big, scary Alpha finding out all your deepest, darkest secrets?_

_And honestly, do you really have any deep, dark secrets that are so bad you don't want anyone to know about them?_

She lifted her head and stared the Alpha in the eye. "Alright. I can't promise I won't freak out, but I'll try."

_

* * *

Thank God I forced Niel to show me the records of Brianna's "memory retrieval" exercise, _Alrik thought as he guided Sarah through the preliminary steps. Even he wasn't sure he could replicate it—Brianna being a Wild Child as well as only having performed the exercise with her twin were two variables that might be the key to why the whole thing worked in the first place for them. Still, Niel's notes were descriptive enough that Alrik thought it was possible.

When Sarah was as relaxed as she was going to get, Alrik closed his eyes and reached out to her mind. She was fully open to him, but he felt her natural barriers tremble with strain and fear. He had to get this over and done with as soon as possible, and only hoped the her injury didn't create any kind of barriers like those that had been in Brianna's head.

He descended quickly, though gently, into Sarah's subconscious, then paused to get his bearings.

He was in awe; he could feel everything there was about this female. Nothing was hidden from him. All her hopes, fears, concerns, and joys were at his fingertips. Alrik forced himself to remember he was there for one task alone, and to leave Sarah's secrets to herself. Quickly, he searched through her mind, looking for where her memories were stored.

The answer, of course, was everywhere, but the memory of being attacked on the beach was freshest and currently occupied the majority of her consciousness. It was less than a second, but he went through it over and over again, gleaning every bit of information he could, before he was satisfied before he returned to his own body.

Alrik opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Sarah was curled up in a ball, sobbing, while Michael stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Is that just an 'I'm sorry for torturing you,' or 'I'm sorry for torturing you for no good reason'?" Michael snarled.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he clarified. "But, I do know now who attacked Sarah, so it wasn't for no good reason."

* * *

James turned around at the sound of the Alpha calling his name. He'd been dreading this, had known that he'd be caught out eventually, but hadn't known what else to do. The attack on Sarah had been a mistake, and he'd already taken steps to make sure nothing like it happened again.

He turned around slowly and faced his Pack's leader.

"I'd like it if you clarified something you said," Alrik requested. "You suggested that the attack on Sarah might have been a mistake, that the attacker might have thought she was someone else, because of where they were, and because her face was all covered up."

James nodded.

"So tell me, how did you know Sarah's face was covered?"

Damn. He thought he had been clever enough to lure the Alpha away from the truth, but his own carelessness had become his own downfall. He should have just confessed everything as soon as they told him they found Sarah.

The only option was to come clean now, and hope he would be granted mercy.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he assured his Alpha. "I didn't even know, until after it was all done."

"When Mattie came to you, is that it?" Michael suggested. James nodded.

"She thought Sarah was Laura," he confessed. "Mattie thought I was cheating on her with Laura. I kept tell her that we were just friends—had never been anything more than that—but she wouldn't believe me. She became obsessed with Laura. After we came back from the peninsula and she heard how we all fussed over Laura when she got hurt by the bear—well, it was like all she could hear was that _I _had fussed over Laura. She became convinced that Laura had purposely hurt herself just so she could claim my attention. She said that I had to choose between the two of them. I was so sick and tired of the fact that nothing I said ever mattered, so I broke up with her. I guess she went crazy and went looking for Laura.

"She came back last night, and at first I wouldn't see her, but then she told me about how she thought she found Laura on the beach, doing one of her sensory-deprivation meditations, but after, realized it was Sarah. She was hysterical. She didn't know what to do, and I just . . ."

"You tried to protect her," the Alpha finished for him.

"Yeah." James sniffed and swiped his arm across his eyes. "I love her. I really do love her. I though breaking up with her might scare her straight, but I never would have done if I thought something like this might happen. It was always talk before, with her. She never actually _did _anything."

The Alpha sighed heavily. "Where is she now, James?" he asked sadly. "You know what needs to be done now, don't you?" James nodded. "So where is she?"

James told him, hating himself for betraying Mattie, as well as for the relief that swept through him now that it was finally over.

"Could you make it quick?" he asked.

"I always do," his Alpha replied.


	22. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

_She writhed beneath him, begging him to stop while secretly wanting him to _never_ stop._

_"We can't!" she moaned breathlessly. "This is too much! You're killing me. Oh, God, I'm dying!"_

_"But your last thoughts will be of me," he told her, grinning wickedly as he spread her legs and slid into her hot, tight sheath. "Say my name. Let that be the last word to pass your lips, and I promise you, your death will be nothing but pleasurable."_

"Alrik!" Brianna shrieked. "What the _fuck _is this shit?"

Her mate's head appeared in the open door of her office.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"This!" she demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at the screen. "I told you to stay away from my laptop!"

"It's not my fault you left it open on the table," he told her, grinning wickedly.

* * *

Gerik pulled a scrap of red lace and satin out of Kit's suitcase.

"How come I haven't seen this one yet?" he asked, unfolding the thong and waving it in her direction.

"Don't you have a table you need to go power-sand?" she demanded and snatched it out of his hands.

"Nope," he replied cheerfully. "I am yours for the afternoon. Why don't you try that on for me?"

"No," she stated flatly and tucked it into the drawer with the rest of her underthings. "I need to unpack. I modeled the black one for you last night, and the blue one this morning. At this rate, it'll take me the rest of the decade to get unpacked. If you don't have anything to work on, why don't you get your receipts in order? It'd be nice to be able to do your books in a single afternoon for once."

"If I'd known you were this much of a killjoy, I wouldn't have asked you to move in with me so soon," Gerik groaned dramatically and flopped down on the bed. Kit's only response was to roll her eyes and yank a shirt out from underneath him, but she _was_ smiling when she did it.

* * *

Sarah groaned as she obligingly put her tray table up and secured it to the back of the seat in front of her. Who's genius idea was it for her to fly?

Oh, wait, that's right. It was hers. She should have taken Alrik up on his offer to buy her a car so she could drive across the country. But _no, _she had to be _responsible, _and take into account that she wouldn't be able to afford a car.

So, instead of a leisurely week traveling across the country, she did it in six hours, and was suffering for it. Exhaustion, ears that wouldn't pop, hunger for something more substantial than six mini-pretzels, and a headache that had been caused by the weird smell wafting up from the person behind her.

The whole experience had been enough to make her skin itch with the urge to flip and rip everyone on the plane apart.

_Calm down, _she told herself firmly. _You'll be on the ground again and away from all these people in a matter of minutes._

Besides, she needed to be at her best when she met her escort from the Harbison Pack.

After the death of Matilda, James's girlfriend, it took a while for the Pack to settle down. An execution always put everyone on edge. Still, it happened, and, what with her own improvements, Alrik decided it was the right time to tell Sarah that, technically, Changer Island wasn't her home. Oh, she could stay as long as she needed to, but she had to put some serious thought into preparing herself to move on and find where she really belonged.

It had been a bitter revelation, but once she had time to adjust, Sarah realized what the Alpha was telling her was true. The island was okay, she supposed, and the Pack great, but, no matter how well they all got along, she couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider.

That epiphany didn't help her make any decisions, though, and after spinning her wheels for several weeks, Elise suggested that, at the very least, she could finish high school.

At a loss for anything else to do, Sarah did just that, completing her coursework at Wolf Lake High through correspondence. Once she had her diploma, it was a short step to Elise suggesting that it couldn't hurt to apply to college. Sarah hadn't known what to major in, but everyone she spoke to said that was common among college freshmen.

When she received the acceptance letter from the University of South Carolina, it had seemed like a sign that she was headed in the right direction. Even though it was a state school, it was a prestigious one.

And that was where she'd ended up during her first Walk.

As the plane finally landed and Sarah waited for her turn to disembark, she reminded herself this was a great thing. No other werewolf from Wolf Lake ever got the opportunity to go to a _real _college. Sure, she'd be subject to the local Pack, but whatever. A phone call from Alrik had obtained permission for her to enter their territory and become a temporary member of the Pack for the duration of her enrollment. He assured her they were a good Pack, and would be careful to take care of her without smothering her, as so many did to those as weak as she.

He did warn her, though, that the Harbison Pack was currently short on females, so advised that she stand her ground if they tried to pressure her into staying permanently and she didn't want to.

Sarah finally emerged from the plane, shouldered her carry-on, and headed down the terminal toward the baggage check. As soon as she got around security, though, she heard someone call her name. She whipped around, searching for the speaker.

"It's you!" she gasped.

The male from her first Walk grinned back at her.

"When I heard there was a female named Sarah relocating to our territory from an island in the Pacific Northwest, I had to see for myself if it was you," he replied.

"How would you know where I was from?" she wondered.

"Your smell," he said. "Your smell told me everything I needed to know about you."


End file.
